Not All Monsters are Demons
by imjustaguy
Summary: BtVSL&O:SVU A serial killer attacts the attention of both the SVU and the Council. The Summers sisters learn that not all monsters are demons. COMPLETE
1. Chapter One Victim

Disclaimer: I don't own either BtVS or L&O: SVU. I am not making any money off this story.

This story is set in the same universe as my story "The Muggle Way". You won't need to read that story to know what's happening here. It's set a few months earlier. I just like the way I had the Council set up in that story and I'm too lazy to come up with something new.

Spoilers:

BTVS: Set 4 and half years post season seven. Spoilers through "Chosen"

L&O: SVU – Set early season five before the episode "Lost." Spoilers through "Lost"

Chapter One – Victim

The garbage truck moved slowly down the New York street. It was early in the morning and very cold. The two men in the cab were talking.

"I'm telling you Lou, the Knicks will be lucky to even make the playoffs this year. They've already lost to the Clippers twice. Twice. No team that losses twice to the Clippers deserves to go to the playoffs."

"Get off it Charlie," Lou replied. "We just past the halfway point in the season. Everybody knows they were just going through the motions. Now they get serious. They beat Philly to a pulp last night."

The truck pulled to a stop and one of the men jumped out of the cab and began motioning the driver around a tight corner into an alley. Suddenly he motioned for the truck to stop. His hands fell to his sides and he just froze staring at something behind the dumpster. The second man leaned out his window.

"Hey Lou, what's going on? Lou? Lou?"

He got out of the truck and went to see had his partner so rattled. As he approached he got a glimpse of what was behind the dumpster. He pulled up short.

"Holy Mother."

* * *

The scene was a bustle of activity. Uniformed police kept the crowd back. The alley was cordoned off behind tape and people with CSU jackets moved around searching for evidence. Detectives Munch and Tutuola arrived and crossed under the tape. Munch spoke first.

"So what do we have?"

The ME looked up from the body and shook her head. "Same as the victim from three nights ago. She was stripped naked, beaten, tortured and raped. There's a cut along the femoral artery. She was bled to death."

"No blood on the ground," Detective Tutuola said. "Looks like another dump job. We got a name yet?"

The ME nodded. "Her clothes were left in a bag just over there," she motioned with her hand. "Victim's name was Emily Gaston. Chicago driver's license."

"New York hospitality at its worst," Munch deadpanned. He motioned for one of the CSU officers to hand him the bagged driver's license. "Emily Gaston, age thirty-four. She was pretty."

Tutuola leaned over the body. "Looks like the same markings cut into abdomen that the other two vics had. I got a bad feeling about this one Munch. We got a serial killer on our hands."

"Were the cuts made pre or post mortem?" Munch asked.

"I'd say pre mortem, just like the last two," replied the ME.

"Time of death."

"Last night. Some time between ten PM and two AM," she replied. "I'll know more after the autopsy."

Munch nodded his head and approached one the officers. "Canvas turn up anything yet."

"Nope. Nobody heard or saw anything out of the ordinary last night."

"Keep at it. Maybe we'll get lucky and somebody saw the victim being dumped."

"All right detective."

"Hey Munch," Tutuola was going through the victims purse. "I don't think our vic was a tourist. I got apartment keys and the slip on the key ring is for a New York address. Looks like she just moved here."

"We'll report back to the Captain and then check out her apartment."

* * *

A couple of hours later Munch and Tutuola were searching Emily Gaston's apartment.

"According the building manager Gaston lives alone. Moved in about a month ago," Munch said. "Got a job offer that was too good to pass up."

"Looks like she hasn't settled in yet," Tutuola said. "Still some boxes in the bedroom."

"No sign of forced entry or a struggle," Munch said.

"Who are you people?" came a voice from the door. Munch and Tutuola turned to see two young women standing at the door. The one who spoke was a short blonde woman who didn't look older than twenty-fine. Just behind her was a taller brunette who looked even younger.

"Detectives Munch and Tutuola," Munch replied holding up his badge. "And who are you?"

"What are you doing in Emily's apartment?" the blonde asked. She stated moving into the apartment. Munch felt the urge to back up. This woman was barely half his size and she was intimidating him. He glimpsed back and saw that his partner was having the same reaction.

"Look miss," Munch said. "We're the police. I need to know who you are and why you are at Emily Gaston's apartment."

The younger of the two tapped the blonde on the shoulder and then moved forward. "I'm Dawn Summers. That's my sister Buffy. We're Emily's employers. She didn't come into the office this morning and hasn't been answering her phone or responding to her messages. We came here to find out if anything's wrong. And since two NYPD detectives are searching her apartment I can assume something happened. Where is Emily?"

"Ms Summers I very sorry to have to tell you but Emily Gaston was murdered sometime last night," Munch informed her. "Her body was discovered in an alley this morning."

"What happened?" Buffy asked.

"We're still investigating," Munch replied. "What exactly does she do?" Munch was surprised that these two twenty something women could be Emily Gaston's employers.

"She does appraisal work for museums, auction houses and private collectors," Dawn answered. "She's been doing freelance work for us for the past few years. When we decided to open a New York office I talked her into moving from Chicago to run the place. We just had our grand opening party yesterday. That's why Buffy and I are in town."

"And where is your head office?" Munch asked.

"London," Dawn replied. "That's where I'm based. Buffy runs our Cleveland branch."

""Ms Summers," Munch continued, "we need to locate a family member to identify the body. Do you know how we can get a hold of her family?"

"Her parents died when she was in college," Dawn answered. "Her brother lives in Arizona."

"We can identify the body," Buffy offered.

Munch blinked. Buffy had changed from the intimidating woman who entered the apartment into a typical twenty something. He couldn't mark what had changed and if he hadn't seen Fin's reaction he would have thought he imaged the whole thing. But now he found himself looking at a nice young woman who just wanted to help the police.

"It might be unpleasant."

"I know. But we want to help. How did she die?"

"We can talk about that later," Tutuola said. "Can you tell us the last time you saw Ms Gaston?"

"The party got out about six last night," Dawn said. "Emily left about six thirty."

"And you two."

Buffy answered. "We stayed late. Conference call with our Asian office. I think we got out around eight."

"Sounds about right," Dawn nodded.

"Did Ms Gaston leave with anyone?" Tutuola asked.

"Janice drove her home," Buffy said. "She had a few extra glasses of punch and we wanted to make sure she got back to her apartment ok. We already talked with Janice. She said she dropped Emily off at the door at a quarter after seven and then headed home. She did say she saw Emily go into the building."

"We'll need to speak with this Janice ourselves," Munch said. He was surprised by how thoroughly the two sisters had already checked up on their employee. They had called, checked with the person who saw her last and then come to her apartment. It was almost like a police investigation. Ordinarily he would write it off to overly conscientious employers except for that vide he got off Buffy when she first walked into the apartment.

"Look, can you tell us what happed to Emily?" Buffy asked. "How did she die?"

"Tell you what," Tutuola said, "we'll take you down to the morgue to identify the body and then you can come back the station with us. We still need to ask you a few more questions."

Munch watched as the two sisters shared a look. Then Buffy nodded her head at Dawn and turned her attention back to the officers.

"We'll need to call the office and tell them what happened," Buffy said. "I assume you'll want to talk to them so I'll tell them to stay put until your other detectives arrive. We have our own car so we can follow you to the morgue."

Once again Munch noted that these two seemed very familiar with police procedure.

"Sounds like a plan."


	2. Chapter Two Questions

Chapter Two - Questions

Munch and Tutuola entered the ME's office. Tutuola was talking on his cell phone.

"Right Captain," he said. "We'll have the sisters ID the body then come back the station." He clicked off the phone and turned back to Munch. "Captain's sending Benson and Stabler over to Gaston's office."

"Ok," Munch looked over at the ME who was examining the body. "What have you got so far?"

"Ligature marks on her wrists and ankles. She was definitely tied down," came the reply. "Also bruising across her chest and on her hips."

"Like she was strapped down," Tutuola said.

"Exactly."

"Perp probably did it while he was carving those markings," Munch noted. "Anything you can tell us about those?"

"They're shallow cuts. Probably made with a small knife, maybe a scalpel" the ME said. "The markings are not the same as the last two victims."

"We've got the vic's bosses outside to do an ID on the body," Tutuola said.

"I'll clean her up and move her in front of the camera."

"That won't be necessary," Munch turned and saw the Summers sisters walking into the room.

"You shouldn't be in here," Tutuola moved forward to stop them from seeing the body. The blonde, Buffy, was in the lead. Munch blinked, as she just seemed to push past Fin without even noticing him. It was a blur of motion. One second Fin was walking up to her; the next he was turned sideways and Buffy was past him. Dawn took advantage of Fin's confusion and followed her sister.

They walked up to the body. Munch noticed that neither of them seemed shocked or surprised. Both seemed to look at the body with same critical eye of professionals. This was definitely not the first time they'd seen a dead body.

"She was beaten," Buffy said. Munch could hear the anger in her voice.

Fin recovered from his confusion and decided since they had already seen the body to confirm the victim's identity. "Is this Emily Gaston?"

"Yes," Dawn replied. "It's Emily." Munch studied her. Her voice carried both anger and sadness. But she was still able to keep her composure and study the body. She seemed to be focusing on the markings cut into Gaston's abdomen.

"Ms Summers do recognize those markings?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't recognize them." She continued to stare at them though. Deep in thought.

"Are you sure?" Munch pressed.

She looked up at him and shook her head. "No I don't," she said. She paused for a second then seemed to come to a decision. "They look like writing."

The ME looked down at the body. "She's right. It's not any language I recognize but it does look like writing."

"You said two other people had been killed this way," Buffy said.

"How do you know that?" Tutuola asked.

"I heard you talking before we came in."

Munch was certain the door had been closed. How could she have overhead their conversation with the ME?

"I think we need to get back to the station house now," Munch said. "There are still some questions we need to go over with you. Two other detectives will be interviewing the people at your office."

"I understand," Buffy said. "Anything we can do to help."

* * *

A short while later Munch and Tutuola were back at the station house with the two sisters. They were sitting at Munch's desk.

He set two pictures down on the desk. "Do you recognize either of these people?"

The sisters looked down at the pictures. The first was man who looked to be in his late teens or early twenties. The second was a woman. She looked to be in her mid-fifties. Both sisters shook their heads. Buffy spoke first.

"No I don't recognize either of them. Dawn?"

"I don't know them either."

"What about the names Thomas Nickles and Margaret Charney?" Munch asked.

"No. Nothing," Buffy said.

"Same here," Dawn said.

"These are the other two victims?" Buffy asked.

"Yes."

"Were they killed the same way as Emily?" Buffy asked. This wasn't the first time Buffy or Dawn had tried to get information about the other murders.

"Buffy," he was having trouble with her name, but since there were two Ms Summers he had to go by first names. "We don't give out that kind of information during the course of an investigation."

"I understand," she said. "I just want to figure out what happened to Emily."

"Of course," Munch replied. "Can you tell us how long Ms Gaston has been in New York?"

"She moved here three weeks ago," Dawn replied. "Right after we purchased the office space. She's been working with Xander Harris, our facilities guy in Cleveland, to set up the office. She's also been hiring office staff and meeting with potential clients in the New York area."

"And you two, how long have you been in town?"

"I came in last week to help with the final set up," Dawn replied.

"I arrived yesterday for the kick off party and to spend some time with Dawn."

Munch nodded. The first murder had occurred over a month ago. Almost two weeks before Emily Gaston moved into her apartment.

"Do either of you know of anyone who might want to hurt Ms Gaston, any problems she may have had, money, old boyfriend?" he asked.

Both sisters started thinking. Dawn answered first.

"No, no one that would want to hurt her. She's done maybe eight jobs for us over the last three years. We paid her pretty well for all of them. She was very good at her job. She had an excellent reputation. That's why we hired her to run the New York office," she paused again. "She had a boyfriend back in Chicago, but I'm pretty sure they broke up a couple of months ago."

"We'll need his name."

"I don't know it," Dawn said. "It's probably in her address book."

"How many jobs has she done in New York?"

"For us, two," Dawn answered. "I don't know about other clients she may have had. When I talk to London tonight I'll get them to e-mail the files on her New York jobs to me. I can bring them in tomorrow."

"We also told Xander to make sure to give your detectives copies of Emily's schedule for the past month," Buffy said.

Again Munch noted how much these two seemed to know a lot about police procedure. They were anticipating most of his questions. He didn't think they were involved. They're anger seemed too genuine for that. But he wondered just how often these two had been involved with police investigations in the past.

"Thank you both for your help," he said. He then held out is card. "If you think of anything else, please contact us. How long will you two be staying in New York?"

"We were planning on leaving tomorrow," Buffy said. "But after this, we'll be decided to stay in town a few extra days. We need to get the office settled." She pulled out a pad of paper and wrote something down on it. "Here's our hotel information," pulling off a sheet of paper and handing it to Munch.

"We'll be by tomorrow with the information on Emily's New York jobs," Dawn said.

"Again, thank you for help," Munch said. "I am sorry for loss."

"Thank you," Buffy said. The two sisters got up and made their way out of the squad room. Munch made a mental note to do a thorough background check on both of them.


	3. Chapter Three Strength

Chapter Three – Strength

Late in the afternoon Captain Cragen was reviewing the case with his detectives.

"All right people tell me what you know about our new victim."

Munch started. "Emily Gaston, age thirty four. Resident of Chicago for the past ten years. She worked at The Field Museum in Chicago for the past eight years. She also spent a great deal of time as a freelance appraiser for private clients mostly working on the east coast. Offered a job by Guardian Research to run their New York office when they decided to expand beyond Europe. Moved here three weeks ago."

Tutuola took over. "Her record's clean. No arrests not even a parking ticket."

"Any connection to our other two victims?" Cragen asked.

"Nothing we can find," Munch replied. "The Summers sisters say they've never met either Nickles or Charney."

"The other employees of Guardian say the same thing," Detective Benson joined in. "Weird bunch though."

"What do you mean?" Cragen inquired.

"The guy in charge," she looked at her notes, "a Xander Harris, he has an eye patch, he was waiting for us to arrive. Already had a copy of Gaston's schedule ready and the woman who drove her back to apartment was standing there waiting for us to interview her. Almost like this kind of thing was routine for them."

"Xander, Dawn, Buffy, do any of these people have normal names?" Stabler said.

"That Buffy is definitely not normal," Tutuola said. "That girl is dangerous."

"Come on Fin," Cragen said. "I saw her, she can't weigh much more than a hundred pounds soaking wet."

"He's right Captain," Munch said. "You didn't see her when she walked into Gaston's apartment. She looked ready to take both of us apart. I was backing up."

"Hell," Fin said. "I thought about going for my gun."

"For that girl?" Cragen sounded exasperated. "You two trying to get some time off?"

"I'm telling you Cap, that girl is dangerous. At the ME's she pushed me aside like I weighed nothing. I've never seen anybody move like that."

Munch continued, "I'd say the same thing except I didn't even see her move. It happened too fast."

"Do you think they're involved with these murders?" Stabler asked.

"No," Munch shook his head. "For one, they weren't in town when the first murder occurred and Buffy didn't get into town until yesterday. Airline confirmed that. They kept pressing for information about the other two murders. I'm pretty certain this isn't the first time they've been involved in a murder investigation. They've both seen dead bodies before. And they both looked pretty pissed. They're anger looked genuine to me."

"Ok," Cragen said. "Benson, Stabler, go back to the other families. See if any of them have heard of this Guardian Research or the Summers sisters. Munch, do a background check on the company and its employees. The first murder was over a month ago, the second three nights ago and the third last night. Our perp's accelerating his schedule. I want answers before a forth body turns up."

* * *

Late that night the Summers sisters were sitting in their hotel room talking with Giles on the telephone.

"Buffy, I've checked all of our records," Giles voice came over the speaker, "There is no mention of Margaret Charney or Thomas Nickles. I suppose its possible they were mentioned in the old Councils restricted archives but that's unlikely."

"Thanks Giles," Buffy said.

"Buffy, Dawn" Giles continued. "It looks like Ms Gaston was the victim of a random serial killer. This is a matter for the police. Not us."

"The markings on her body looked like some kind of script," Dawn said. "The killer could be following some kind of ritual pattern. We need to keep checking."

"Dawn, this is a matter for the police. We'll forward you the records on Ms Gaston's contracts with Council. Turn them over to the police and then head back here," Giles said.

"Giles, we need to do something. We can't just walk away," Dawn said.

Buffy was studying her sister as Giles continued to speak.

"Dawn, we need you back in London, not chasing after a serial killer in New York. Leave this to the professionals."

"I'm telling you Giles, those markings on her body are important. The police don't have the resources to track that kind of stuff down."

"Dawn, I know your upset but the answer is no."

Buffy was still looking at Dawn when she spoke. "We're staying for a few days Giles."

"Buffy."

"No, Emily was one of ours. And we take care of our own."

Even over the phone Giles recognized Buffy's tone. He didn't hear it as often as he did back in Sunnydale. But it was the tone Buffy used when she had made up her mind and nothing he could say would change it.

"Very well," he said. "But I expect you two to be circumspect about this. We've done a good job with the Cleveland Police Department in matters Demonic. But you're in New York and you're dealing with a human killer."

"I know Giles," Buffy said. "We'll keep it on the QT and no vigilante action. I'll let you get back to your paperwork now. Goodbye."

"Goodbye," Giles clicked off the phone.

Buffy clicked off the speakerphone and turned her attention to Dawn.

"Thanks Buffy," Dawn said.

"Don't thank me yet, "Buffy said. "Tell me what's wrong."

Dawn got up from her chair and crossed over to the bed. She sat down and stared at floor for a few seconds. She then looked up at Buffy.

"It's my fault she's dead Buffy."

"No it's not," Buffy said. "It's the fault of the man that killed her."

"I hired her," Dawn said. "She was happy in Chicago. I talked her into coming to New York."

Buffy got up and crossed over to the bed. She sat down next to Dawn and wrapped her arm around her sister. "Dawn, you had no way to know this was going to happen. You hired her to run an appraisal office. The Council's public face. She didn't have any connection to the demon hunting side of the Council. There was no reason for you or me to think she was in any danger."

"I know that," Dawn said leaning into her sister. "It's just. I'm sorry for not understanding."

"What?"

"I never really understood what you go through until today," Dawn said. "She was one of my people. She worked for me. She was my responsibility. And now she's dead. I've seen death before. Too many times. But this was the first time a person died because of my decisions. My orders."

"Dawn she did not die because of you."

"But she was my responsibility," Dawn said. "You've been making decisions and being responsible for everyone's life since you were fifteen. I didn't really get what that meant until now. How do you deal with it Buffy?"

"In case you forgot, I haven't dealt with it very well over the years."

"But you always came back," Dawn said. "Even when it would have easier to stay away. I don't know if I'm strong enough to do that."

Buffy turned and looked Dawn directly in the eyes. "Believe me Dawn. You're strong enough. I've always known you've been strong enough. I just never wanted you to have to use that strength. I wanted you to stay away from the darkness. I wanted you to have the life I never could. But I guess that's just not possible for us Summers girls."

"I guess not," Dawn replied. "You're right. I don't think I could walk away knowing the things I know and knowing I can help. Does it ever get any easier?"

"No," Buffy said. "To be honest I'm not certain I want it to get easier. That would mean I'm use to people dying. I don't want to be the kind of person who can be cold about death. It needs to hurt. Otherwise we become just like the things we fight."

"When did you get philosophical?"

"I get more free time to think then I use to. And working with all the new Slayers has given me a chance to think about my calling."

"You don't hate it anymore?"

"No."

"That's all you're going to give me."

"I think we've had enough high minded conversation for the day," Buffy said. "We haven't had chance to really catch up on this trip. Tell me, have you played any more practical jokes on Giles?"


	4. Chapter Four Background

Chapter Four - Background

"Ok people tell me we found some kind of connection between our victims," Cragen told his detectives.

"Nothing so far Captain," Benson replied. "We went back to the other victims families and none of them have heard of Guardian Research or the Summers sisters or any of Guardian's other New York employees."

"There has to be connection somewhere," Cragen said. "Serial killers follow a pattern. So what's the link between a fifty-six year old female grade school teacher, a nineteen year old male college track star and a thirty four year old appraiser?"

"Vics all lived in different parts of the city, different social circles, different hobbies nothing connects them," Tutuola said.

"Dr. Wong, you got anything for us?" Cragen asked.

"Other then the method nothing about these crimes seems related," Dr. Wong replied. "Makes it very difficult to come up with a profile. Perpetrator is male. Probably mid to late thirties. May have had some arrests in the past. A history of violence. He beats and rapes all of his victims. Shows rage and control issues. He leaves the bodies where they can be easily found. Its possible he's trying to taunt the police. Showing off his power."

"Any kind of pattern about where the bodies are being left?" Stabler asked.

"Nothing I can see," Dr. Wong replied. "Captain Cragen is right the killer has to be following some kind of pattern. But its one that seems to exist only in his mind."

"Rape kits came up positive for semen for all three victims," Stabler said. "We've also got fingerprints off the victims belongings. Nothing comes up in the system. Our perp's never been fingerprinted."

"So much for previous arrests," Benson said. "What about the markings on the body."

Dr. Wong shook his head. "Nothing that makes sense. The markings are different on all three victims."

"Dawn Summers seemed to think they were some kind of writing," Munch said.

"It's not in any language I recognize," Dr. Wong replied. "Again it might be something that only has meaning for the killer."

"What have you turned up on the Summers sisters and Guardian Research?" Cragen asked.

"A lot more questions then answers," Munch replied. "Guardian Research is pretty straight forward. Founded forty-two years ago in London. Specializes in appraisal work on antiquities and artwork. They also do research on historical documents and sponsor the occasional archeological dig. Company's mostly done business in Europe. For the last four years they've been actively expanding into North and South America and Asia. They have an excellent reputation. Contracts with museums and auction house all over Europe."

"So nothing out of the ordinary," Stabler said.

"Not exactly," Munch smirked. "Guess who was named CEO back in August?"

"Who?"

"Dawn Summers."

"That girls got to be what, twenty one?" Cragen said. "Who puts her in charge of a multinational company?"

"The companies founder and CEO, Quentin Travers, was killed in a terrorist bombing in London almost five and half years ago, along with thirty three other people."

"Guardian's offices?" Cragen asked.

"No," Munch replied. "Apparently it was private organization based in London that Travers was a part of. I can't find anything on it. After Travers died, control of Guardian reverted to his grandson, Eric Travers. He turned over the job to a Dr. Rupert Giles three and half years ago and moved to Cleveland Ohio. Dr. Giles stepped down and put Dawn Summers in charge in August."

"So what's the connection between Dawn Summers and this Dr. Giles?" Benson asked.

Munch smiled. "Sunnydale California."

"The town that turned into a giant sinkhole five years ago?" Stabler asked.

"That's the one," Munch said. "Here's where we get to the tale of the Summers sisters. Before I begin I want to stress, neither of them has ever been arrested or convicted of any crimes. Their names, especially Buffy's, just seem to pop up occasionally."

"So tell us what you found," Benson said.

"Both were born and raised in Los Angeles until Buffy's sophomore year at Hemery High. There was apparently some kind of gang fight during the senior dance and the gym got burned down. Twelve students died."

"Was Buffy involved?" Benson asked.

"No charges were ever filed. She was expelled. Her parents divorced and her mother took Dawn and Buffy with her to live with her in Sunnydale."

"So what happened in Sunnydale?"

"Well anything she might have been involved with during her high school years, she was a minor. We can't get to any of those records. Even if we could those records are at the bottom of Lake Sunnydale now. I did manage to find some interesting tidbits. Buffy was questioned in the death of Sunnydale's deputy mayor soon after her eighteenth birthday. Again no arrest. And someone else later confessed to murder and went to jail about a year later."

Munch continued. "During the Sunnydale High School graduation ceremony."

"Wait let me guess," Tutuola said. "Another gym burned down."

"Close," Munch again smirked. "The entire high school blew up in what was described as a quote 'gas main accident'."

"A gym, a high schools and an entire town. Does anybody else have the urge to get out of the state?" Benson noted.

"Might be the smart move," Tutuola said.

"Want to hear the funny part?" Munch asked.

"There's a funny part?" Tutuola said.

"The librarian at Sunnydale High was one Dr. Rupert Giles."

"That sort of explains the connection to the Summers sisters," Benson said.

"What happened after high school?"

"Buffy went to UC Sunnydale. Dropped out her sophomore year after the death of her mother to take care of her sister. Had a series of odd jobs until landing a position as guidance counselor at the rebuilt Sunnydale High," Munch said. "After Sunnydale sank the sisters moved to Rome. Dawn completed her high school degree there. A year after moving to Rome Dawn moved to England and Buffy moved to Cleveland. Dawn took a year off, couldn't find what she was doing and then went to Oxford. She graduated top of her class after two years with degrees in Mythology and Ancient Languages."

"Ancient languages," Stabler said. "Do you think it's possible she recognized the markings on the body?"

"She said no," Munch replied. "But she was studying the markings very closely."

"So what's Buffy Summers been up to in Cleveland?" Cragen asked.

"She's listed as the director of a private foundation. Funding comes from some organization in England. Hit a dead end trying to find out anymore. Never been arrested or connected to any crime in Cleveland. Worse she has is a couple of moving violations."

"Explains why she lets her sister drive," Tutuola said.

"I did talk to a couple of guys in the Cleveland Police Department," Munch motioned towards Captain Cragen. "Including your counterpart. He swears Buffy Summers is one of the good guys. He said we should take whatever help they offer and quote 'thank God he saw fit to put people like them on this world.'"

"A cop said that?!?" Cragen was amazed.

"I did some checking," Munch said. "The number of murders and disappearances in Cleveland has dropped by double digit percentages in each of the four years. Ever since Buffy Summers moved into town. I went back and did some checking on Sunnydale. Sunnydale use to have one of the highest rates of murder, assaults and disappearances in the country. That is until Buffy moved to town. Rates dropped all seven years she lived in Sunnydale."

"So what are you saying?" Cragen asked. "That Buffy is some kind of vigilante and the Cleveland PD gives her a pass to do what she wants? I can't believe any cop would do that I don't care how bad things got."

"I'm just telling you what I found out."

"What did the other cops you talked to say?" Stabler asked.

"Pretty much the same thing. Buffy and her people are the good guys. One said if this bastard is as sick as we think he is we should lock him a room with Buffy for five minutes. He guarantees our perp will get what's coming to him."

"Who the hell are these people?!" Cragen shouted. He calmed down and asked, "Do we think they are connected to these murders?"

"No I don't," Munch said. "Again none of their people were in town when the first murder happened. And the ones who were in town for the last two all have alibis."

"The local staff they've hire all have solid alibis for all three murders," Benson added.

"So where does that leave us?" Cragen asked.

"If Dawn Summers can figure out what those markings mean, I say we ask for their help," Munch said.

"You're kidding," Tutuola said.

"We're shooting blanks right now. We can't find any common thread on these murders. Dawn Summers would seem to be an expert on languages. It's not like we've haven't gone to outside experts before."

"Dawn called this morning," Benson said. "She said she and Buffy would be by in about an hour to drop off the files on Gaston's New York jobs."

Cragen started pacing while he thought through Munch's suggestion. "Ok. Dr. Wong, have the FBI do a quick check on Buffy and Dawn Summers. If it comes back clean we'll show them the markings on the other two vics. Munch I want you to clear this with Cabot and I want her here. I don't want to run into any problems down the line. I'm already certain I'm going to regret this."


	5. Chapter Five Decisions

Chapter Five - Decisions

Buffy and Dawn were spending the day at Guardian's New York office.

"I can't figure this language out," Dawn sounded frustrated.

"What else do you need?" her sister asked.

"Well it would help if I had a bigger sample to work with. At best this is two maybe three words. It also doesn't help that I'm working from memory on what the symbols looked like."

"Keep at it."

Xander walked into the office they were using. "Well it's official. In town for less then three days and the police are already doing background checks on you Buffy."

"How do you know?" Buffy asked.

"Robin just called," Xander replied. "That Captain in the sex crimes unit we've worked with occasionally got the third degree about you from a Detective Munch early this morning. A couple of hours later he got the same from a Captain Cragen. Called Robin to give us a heads up. Good guy, got to add him to the Christmas card list."

"Do you know what he said to Detective Munch and his Captain?"

"Just that you were good people and we've never done anything wrong," Xander said. "Nothing about the stranger side of Cleveland's night life."

"Well they shouldn't be able to get too far," Buffy said. "Most of our records from Sunnydale went bye bye. And Riley took care of the stuff since then. The only big thing still out there is Faith. And Angel's friend Kate left my name out of the file when they arrested her. Besides she got that nice pardon from the Governor so even if they could link her to us there's nothing they can do about it."

"So nice to have friends in high places," Xander said.

"So when are you flying out?" Buffy asked.

"Late this evening around ten," he replied. "When are you two getting out of here?"

"In a few days," Buffy replied.

"Giles is not going to like this," Xander said.

"No he doesn't," Buffy said. "But like it or not we owe it to Emily to find out what happened."

"Ok Buffy, your call," Xander said. "And for what's its worth I agree with you. But be careful. We don't know these cops. Sneaking around behind their backs is not going to be easy."

"Maybe we won't have to," Dawn said.

"And why is that?" Xander said.

"I'm going to try and convince them we can help when we go down there," Dawn replied.

"And they'll be so overwhelmed by your sparkling personality they'll agree," Xander deadpanned.

"Stranger things have happened in our lives," Dawn shot back.

"You know I can't even argue with that statement."

"Speaking of which, if we're going to get down there in time, we should probably leave now," Buffy said. "Unless you want me to drive. I could probably get us down there a lot quicker."

"Not going to happen," Dawn replied. "You're dangerous behind the wheel."

"It's not my fault everyone else's reaction times are too slow," Buffy pouted. "I only got in one accident and that was during the band candy incident."

"You're not driving Buffy," Dawn said closing up her laptop. "We'll leave now."

* * *

"What are you thinking letting civilians in on this Captain?" ADA Cabot was not happy. "You even said they might be some kind of vigilante group. This is not going to look good."

"Cabot, Munch is right, we've got nothing," Cragen replied. "I agree it's a risk. But I'd rather have them here where we can keep an eye on them then wandering around New York asking questions on their own. I talked with Captain Freeman in the Cleveland sex crimes unit. He swears they're not vigilantes. He said they've provided a little unofficial information that helped close cases."

"What kind of unofficial information?" Cabot asked.

"He wouldn't say," Cragen answered. "He's says their the good guys. That they have a certain understanding for these types of cases. He wouldn't say anything else. I checked his record. He's a good cop. I gotta take him at his word."

"What does Dr. Wong say?"

"Looks like we're going to find out together," Cragen nodded in the direction of Dr. Wong who was just walking up to Cragen's door. He entered and stood just to the side of ADA Cabot.

"So what have you got for us Doctor?" Cragen asked.

"Apparently this group Buffy Summers belongs too has done work for the FBI on some cult cases over the last four years," he replied.

"What kind of work?" Cabot asked.

"I couldn't find out," Dr. Wong replied. "The only one I could find anything out on was some ritual killings down in Mississippi last year that they were involved in. According the Special Agent in charge of the case Ms Summers along with a couple of other people helped close the case."

"How?"

"Said they found a common link among the crimes that led to the real killers. Nothing more. The case was classified by Homeland Security."

"Classified?" Cragen said. "Just what are these people into?"

"I don't know," Dr. Wong replied. "The Agent said they were a godsend in solving the case."

"So they're helpful," Cragen said.

"I still don't like this," Cabot said. "Just so we understand one another Captain."

"I know Cabot," Cragen nodded his head. "If this goes bad it's on my head. You know I'm starting to get the feeling our perp may have picked the wrong woman to go after and attracted the wrong kind of attention."


	6. Chapter Six Meetings

Chapter Six - Meetings

"Looks like our guests have arrived," Munch motioned towards the door of the squad room. The Summers sisters were just walking in.

"Ok, Benson, stick close to the younger one, Dawn. See if you can get any information out of her," Cragen spoke quietly to his detectives.

"Gotcha."

"Munch, Fin, you two stick with Buffy," Cragen replied. As he watched the sisters Cragen noticed Buffy giving him a quick look. She smiled at him then turned and whispered something in Dawn's ear.

"Detective Munch, we have that information we promised," Buffy said. She handed him a file folder.

"Thank you," he replied

"There was something I wanted to ask you about," Dawn said.

"And what is that?"

"Well, I've been trying to figure out those markings on Emily's body. They are definitely some kind of writing. Some of the characters correspond to letters used in some eastern European languages in the early part of the first millennium. I'm guessing, but it appears to be one of the root languages the gypsies started using in the mid sixth century."

"You figured all that out in one night?" Tutuola asked.

"I majored in ancient languages at Oxford," she replied. "My professors always said I had a certain flare for deciphering difficult texts." She turned her attention to Captain Cragen. "Captain I know it's out of the ordinary. But if I could see the markings on the other bodies, it could give me a large enough sample to translate."

"Actually Ms Summers, we were thinking about asking you and your sister for help in just that matter," Cragen replied. "This is Detective Benson she can assist you getting the information you need."

Dawn nodded her head and reached out to shake Benson's hand. "Hi Dawn Summers. Just call me Dawn. You're one the detectives that interviewed our people at the office. Xander liked you."

"Hi, it's Olivia," she replied. "Your friend Mr. Harris is an interesting young man."

"He's also a good judge of character. We should get along just fine."

Cragen turned his attention to Buffy, "Buffy I assume you'll be working with your sister."

"No, Dawn's more research girl then I am," Buffy replied. "I can help out by looking at the previous crime scenes."

"I take it you've done this kind of thing before?" Cragen asked.

"You've been doing the background checks on us," Buffy smiled back. "You tell me."

Cragen had to shake his head. He was having a hard time getting a read on this Buffy Summers. Her look screamed California blonde. But something about her set off both Munch and Tutuola. She was also far more intelligent then she let on. Munch was right; she had a way of anticipating where a conversation was going and beating the other person there.

"We know you've had some unofficial involvement with the Cleveland PD and that you've done some 'consulting' work for the FBI on cult related cases. Care to tell us what that's about?" Cragen replied.

"Our work with the FBI is classified," Buffy replied. She knew saying classified just made people more suspicious. But it was true and it was a good way to deflect questions from people who were already suspicious. "We've helped the Cleveland police with some profiling and a few other things."

"You do this often?" Cragen asked.

Buffy thought for a second. She decided to go with cover story number two. "Our organization, among other things, watchdogs cults and other such groups."

"Was Ms Gaston involved in any of that?" Benson asked.

"No," Dawn replied. "Guardian and Buffy's group are completely independent of one another." At least on paper Dawn thought.

"How long have you two been doing this sort of thing?" Munch asked.

"Look, we can spend the next few hours trading war stories," Buffy said. "But that's not going to help us catch this killer. You've obviously decided to accept our help. So why don't you just go along with it for now. The sooner we get to work, the sooner we put this guy away."

Cragen noticed a subtle change in Buffy's demeanor. Nothing overt. But this was clearly a woman use to giving orders and use to having them obeyed. She was right though. Giving these two the third degree wasn't doing anything to catch their serial killer. He was just going to have to set his curiosity aside and go along with it for now.

"Buffy why don't you work with Detectives Munch and Tutuola," he said.

"Sounds good to me," she replied.

"Dawn, what do you need to start working?" Benson asked.

"I've got my laptop here," she held up the carrying case she was holding. "All I need is a desk. It has a built in cellular phone so I can connect with my computer back in London. It would be nice to have an outlet nearby so I don't waste too much battery power."

"You can set up at my desk," Benson said and led Dawn off.

Cragen nodded his head at Munch and Tutuola. "I'll leave you three to get to work." He turned and headed back to his office with Detective Stabler. Buffy noticed that an Asian man that had been observing their conversation from a short distance away joined them.

She turned her attention to the two detectives assigned to baby-sit her. "Like I said it would be helpful if I could see the places where the bodies were found."

"You think we missed something?" Tutuola sounded a little annoyed.

"No," she replied. "I'm certain you did a thorough job. It's just seeing the places first hand gives me a certain feel for the who I'm looking for."

Tutuola blinked. That feeling he had when he first saw Buffy returned. It was nowhere near as strong as before. But there was something in her eyes. Something that told him she was telling the truth. That somehow she could feel something about the killer. He didn't understand it. But he felt it.

He and Munch shared a look and he knew his partner saw the same thing. They nodded to each and he turned his attention back to Buffy. The feeling was gone. California girl was back. He had the feeling that 'California girl' was a mask for the real Buffy Summers. And he was pretty sure he didn't want to meet that Buffy Summers.

"Ok, let's take a ride," he said. "We can fill you in on the rest of case on the way."

Dawn looked up from Benson's desk. "Whatever you do don't let her talk you into letting her behind the wheel."

"Spoilsport."

"I don't want these nice New York detectives to get heart attacks," Dawn shot back.

"All right let's go," she motioned to the detectives. They made their way out of the squad room.

* * *

Cragen shut the door to his office and turned to Dr. Wong.

"So what do you make of the Summers sisters?" he asked.

"Buffy Summers is used to being underestimated because of her appearance," Dr. Wong replied. "And she's learned to use that to her advantage to keep people off balance so she can control the conversation. I'd say the same is true for Dawn."

"He's got that right," Stabler said. "Did anybody else notice that we didn't get anything new from them, but they got exactly what they want from us."

"Buffy's also use to giving orders and being in charge," Cragen said. "And it looks like she can switch the act on and off at will."

"That's probably true," Dr. Wong said. "I doubt you're going to get anything out of either of them by intimidation or questioning."

"So what do you recommend?" Stabler asked.

"Treat them with respect," Dr. Wong said. "They're both confident and both clearly know what they're doing. I would say they drop the act around people they know and respect. If you don't earn that respect they won't switch off the act. That seems especially true of Buffy."

"So Dawn will be easier," Stabler said.

"No, she probably has her own defense mechanisms, distinct from her sister's," Dr. Wong replied. "Don't underestimate either of them detective."

"We'll try not to," Cragen replied. He looked outside the office in time to see Buffy leaving with Munch and Tutuola. He saw Dawn setting up her laptop on Benson's desk and leafing through the case file. He wondered just what other surprises these two held.


	7. Chapter Seven Investigation

Chapter Seven - Investigation  
  
Detective Benson had to admit, when Dawn Summers decided to work. She really worked. After setting up her computer and briefly looking through the case file she pulled out a portable scanner. She then proceeded to scan the pictures of the markings on each of the victims into her computer. She then started typing away. Benson could see two windows up on her screen. One had the markings on it. The second was the active screen Dawn was working with. Benson didn't understand anything that she was typing.  
  
After a few minutes Dawn finally leaned back in her chair nodded her head.  
  
"Ok the search programs are running," she said.  
  
"And this will match up the language?" Benson asked.  
  
"I doubt we'll be that lucky," Dawn replied. "Do you have any idea how many written languages were used in Europe during the first millennium?"  
  
"No," Benson said. "Why does that matter? I thought the program just matched the letters up to language and translated."  
  
Dawn smirked. "If it was that easy, all those internet translation programs would return perfect results. At best this will give us the family of languages that we're working with. From there the real work begins."  
  
"I still don't understand why the program can't just translate directly," Benson said.  
  
"Consider it like this," Dawn began to explain. "European languages share a lot of common letters. But the sound behind those letters is different depending on the language you're using. So just identifying a letter is not enough. You have to know where it's being used. The context. That tells you which sound to use. Show the letter A to people living in three different countries without any context and you'll hear three different sounds. Make sense."  
  
"I guess so," Benson replied.  
  
"That same thing is true with language," Dawn continued. "I live in London. They speak English there. But it's not the same English we speak here. Torch for flashlight, Football for Soccer, even within the same language meaning can shift depending on region and usage."  
  
"So what you're saying is this program will probably be able to identify the words but that won't necessarily tell us what they mean," Benson said.  
  
"Exactly," Dawn replied. "At best we might get several different meanings. Or translations. We're going to have to use context to figure out which meaning is correct. Most likely what we're going to get is an identification of the family of languages with potentially dozens of translations."  
  
"So how do we narrow it down?"  
  
"That's where I'm going to need your help," Dawn replied. "The killer appears to be following a ritual pattern. He bleeds the victim. A common sacrificial method. He marks the bodies. Another common element in sacrifices. The time of the first death was during a full moon. A very common time for a sacrifice. What time of day did the victims die?"  
  
"According to the ME's reports all three victims died around one AM."  
  
"The thirteenth hour," Dawn nodded her head.  
  
"Excuse me."  
  
"The thirteenth hour," Dawn explained. "Sometimes called the 'witching hour.' A lot of occult rituals from Europe are done at one AM because that's believed to be a time of maximum power."  
  
"So you think our killer is some kind of occultist?" Benson said.  
  
"No. Like I said, some of the elements correspond to ritual sacrifices. But there are a few very big deviations."  
  
"Like what?" Benson was fascinated by Dawn's knowledge. She was analyzing the case like a profiler. Looking for common elements. She did seem fixated on the ritual and occult aspects though. She supposed it made sense if she was involved in a group that monitored cults.  
  
"Well for one, the killer defiles the sacrifice before killing them," Dawn said. "That's usually a big no no. Most rituals demand a pure sacrifice."  
  
"Like virgin sacrifices."  
  
"Yep. So-called Satanic rituals might defile the body after death. But it's extremely rare to defile the body before hand. Impure sacrifices tend to annoy whatever deity the sacrifice is being made to."  
  
"Anything else."  
  
"Timing is also important," Dawn said. "The first murder was on the night of a full moon. If he was following a ritual pattern, then the next murder should have been done on a full moon as well. He didn't do that. What all this tells me is that our killer is not a true practitioner."  
  
"So we're dealing with somebody who has a limited knowledge of the occult," Benson nodded her head. "And he seems to be taking that knowledge and applying it to the murders."  
  
"I'd say he came across some ritual that promises power, wealth, the usual stuff and decided to give it a try. He's almost certainly not working off an original text. Anybody with that knowledge would not make these kinds of mistakes. Most likely he's working off a bad translation. He's a dabbler."  
  
"I'll tell Dr. Wong," Benson said. "He can add that to the profile."

* * *

It was getting late. The sun had already set and they had finally reached the site where Emily Gaston's body had been found. Munch was watching Buffy do the same thing she had done at each of the other two sites. Despite not having looked at the crime scene photos, she walked straight to the spot where the body had been found.  
  
"What direction was the body facing in when she was found?" Buffy asked.  
  
Tutuola thought back for a second. "Her head was pointed that way," he pointed towards the alley wall. Munch remembered that the body had been at about a thirty degree to the wall.  
  
Buffy nodded her head.  
  
"What do you see?" Munch asked.  
  
"He picked the locations to dump the bodies before the murders," she replied. "He's definitely following some kind of pattern."  
  
"How can you be so sure?" Munch asked.  
  
"Mrs. Charney's body was pointing to where you found the second body," she answered. "His body was pointing in this direction."  
  
"Damn," Tutuola said. "How did we miss that?"  
  
"We think of body position in terms of what's around it," Munch said. "We don't think in relation to the other bodies," Munch looked at Buffy. "How did you see it? We've been backtracking through New York streets all night."  
  
"I've got a really good sense of direction," she answered. "Do we know how Emily's body got here?"  
  
"We figure our perp pulled up the curb at there," Tutuola waved in the direction of alley's entrance. "And he dumped the body here."  
  
Buffy shook her head. "He came in from that way," she pointed to the other end of the alley.  
  
"What makes you say that?" Tutuola said.  
  
"Follow me and I'll show you," she started walking to other end of the alley. Tutuola noticed how she seemed perfectly comfortable moving in the dark. Her head was moving, like she was constantly scanning everything around her. And she avoided obstacles like they weren't even there. When they reached the far end she nodded and pointed to a canopy covering the storefront next to the alley's entrance. It stretched out into the street.  
  
"See, he could pull up here with almost no chance of being seen. There's no cover on the other side. Then he the moves the body down the alley. It's a longer walk, but less risk," Buffy said. "Same is true at the other places. Each one had a way in that offered maximum cover. He planned these murders in advance. I'd say he cased this place and the others a couple of times before hand." She turned to look at both detectives. "He's following a plan and I'm certain he's already picked his next victim."  
  
Munch could see why Captain Freeman was impressed with her. She already spotted things they'd missed. He was confident they would have spotted them after a couple of more victims turned up. But that would have been too late. He was also certain she was right. Their killer had already picked his next victim.  
  
Munch was starting to get impressed himself. Now he just had to figure out how a this young woman could gain so much experience tracking killers that she could impress cops with decades on the job. 


	8. Chapter Eight Thinking

Chapter Eight – Thinking  
  
The next morning passed fairly quickly. Dawn and Buffy came to the station early. Dawn continued to work with Detective Benson on the translation and figuring out what ritual the killer was following. Dr. Wong joined them, adding his insight into criminal behavior.  
  
Buffy left with Munch and Tutuola to talk with the clients Emily Gaston had met with during her three weeks in New York in an effort to find a link between the victims.  
  
Working this closely with the police on a serial killer case was proving an eye-opener for the Summers sisters. Most of the time it their job was just identify the demon, track it and kill it. Having to follow proper police procedures was not their primary concern. Along with worrying about making certain all the evidence was gathered properly and documented so it could be presented at a future trial.  
  
After Buffy got back to the station the sisters decided to eat lunch together at a deli near the station. They were comparing notes.  
  
"The language is definitely Eastern European," Dawn said. "Probably in use between the third and sixth centuries. Problem is that area is a meeting place between a dozen different cultural traditions. The characters appear to be derived from Latin, some Persia texts, Hebrew a couple of others and I'm boring you to death aren't I?"  
  
"You're not as bad as Giles," Buffy replied. "And it's not that you're boring me. I've just got a lot on my mind."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"How long until Willow's ready to apply those search programs we've been using in Cleveland and the other Hellmouth's to the rest of the country?" Buffy asked.  
  
"She's been beta testing them for the last couple of months," Dawn said. "The major hold up is getting all the books scanned into the database so we have the proper the search criteria. Why?"  
  
"It occurs to me," Buffy said. "When we start searching all newspaper and news reports for evidence of demon activity, we're going to run into a lot of situations like this one."  
  
"You mean a regular guy just dabbling. No magic no demons."  
  
"Yes. Think about it. He's following an occult pattern that would pop up as a hit. We'd dispatch one of the freelance teams to investigate."  
  
"And they'd end up trying to chase down a human killer. I think I see the problem. But what are we going to do about it?"  
  
"I don't know. We don't Slay humans except as an absolute last resort, to save lives and I don't want to turn the Slayers into a vigilante group," Buffy paused for a second. "On the other hand, we obviously have information that would be helpful in tracking these kind of killers down. These guys are good, but there's stuff they missed because they don't know the occult. And we also have to make certain we don't do anything that keeps the police from being able to close a case. If we screw up or get in the way, evidence could get thrown out and a killer could walk free."  
  
"I don't think that's going to be a problem here," Dawn said. "But we're going to have to do some serious thinking on this before the roll out."  
  
"I know."

* * *

Back at the squad room Captain Cragen was meeting with his detectives while they ate lunch.  
  
"So anything new on our perp?"  
  
"Dawn has been remarkably helpful in filling out the profile," Dr. Wong said. "He's in his early to mid thirties. He's well educated. College degree and probably a graduate degree. He works in a mid to low level job that doesn't utilize his intelligence. He lacks confidence and hasn't advanced much in his career as a result. He's frustrated by that lack of advancement. He turned the occult as a means to get control over his life. Dawn is probably correct; he viewed the ritual he's using as a means to gain power.  
  
"So why the deviations?" Benson asked.  
  
"He found power in the killing," Dr. Wong replied. "The ritual aspects are most likely just habit at this point. He's following them, at least loosely, because that's what he planned on doing. But whatever goal he was after has been subsumed by the pleasure he derives from killing his victims. From seeing them suffer."  
  
"So what can we do to find him?" Stabler asked.  
  
"Dawn still hasn't been able to identify the language he's using or what ritual he's following," Benson replied. "But it's only a matter of time until she does. She's good Captain."  
  
"Munch, Fin, you got anything?"  
  
"We still haven't been able to find a connection between the vics," Munch replied. "We did check Buffy's theory about the directions the bodies were facing. And she's right, each victim has been pointing to where the next victim was found."  
  
"We also checked out the areas where we think the victims were snatched," Tutuola continued. "They all had good places to hide and good cover. Buffy's right, our perp probably stalked each victim before hand and picked the spot where he was going to grab them. He also cased the drop sites."  
  
"That's consistent with the profile," Dr. Wong said. "He's not confident of his ability to act, so he plans each murder out in advance."  
  
"So what do we make of Summers sisters so far?" Cragen asked.  
  
"Dawn Summers is brilliant," Dr. Wong said. "She's clearly had experience dealing with these kinds of cases before. Her insights into behavior are on a par with mine. Her emphasis is on the occult and magic, not psychology. How someone her age could have gotten that kind of experience is beyond me."  
  
"I haven't been able to learn anything new about her background," Benson said. "She's polite, likes talking about the process, but she's an expert at dodging questions that might give a hint at how she knows so much about serial killers. It's almost like a game to her."  
  
"What about Buffy?"  
  
"Girl moves through a crime scene like a pro," tutuola said. "She sees everything."  
  
"The FBI has a several profilers who can empathize with a killer," Dr. Wong noted. "Perhaps she's had similar training or experience."  
  
"She's not empathizing," Tutuola said. "She's hunting."  
  
"What?" Captain Cragen said.  
  
"You got to see it to understand it Cap," Tutuola explained. "Every once and awhile, the California girl disappears and the real Buffy Summers takes over."  
  
"The real Buffy Summers?" Stabler said. "Come on, I admit she's intelligent, but you're not going to start in with that bit about her being dangerous again."  
  
"He's telling the truth," Munch responded. "She knew where the bodies were placed at each crime scene with out looking at the photos. She moves like a cat through dark alleys. It's uncanny."  
  
"You're still not going to convince me that little girl is dangerous," Stabler said.  
  
"Talking about us again?" The group turned to see the Summers sisters walking back into the squad room. Buffy had a big smile on face. She walked across the room directly up to Stabler. "I don't think we've been formerly introduced yet. I'm Buffy Summers," she stuck out her hand.  
  
Munch noticed the size disparity between the two. Buffy was also playing the California blonde act to the hilt. He almost felt sorry for Stabler.  
  
"Detective Stabler," he shook her hand.  
  
"You were in the military," Buffy said.  
  
"Yes, how did you know?" Stabler responded.  
  
"You walk like someone with military training," she replied. "You're a family man too. I bet you have daughters. You focus a lot of your attention on protecting your little girls from the big bad world."  
  
Stabler knew she was deliberately pushing his buttons but he couldn't help but responded anyway, "So what's that to you?"  
  
"Don't mistake me for one of your daughters," she said. "I can take care of myself. I don't need a big strong protector."  
  
"Fine," Stabler responded. Dawn noticed the patronizing tone of his voice. She shook her head. For cop he has some obvious blind spots she thought. She moved closer to Captain Cragen, expecting what was going to happen next.  
  
If anything Buffy's smile grew wider. She turned and walked over to one of the desks. She sat down and planted her elbow on the desk and held up her hand.  
  
"Want to arm wrestle?" she asked.  
  
"Excuse me," Stabler responded.  
  
"Come on, it will be funny, big strong you against little girl me."  
  
"People," Cragen started to intervene. He felt Dawn touch his arm. He turned and she leaned into him and whispered.  
  
"Don't, he has to learn sometime."  
  
Cragen stopped and decided to watch the scene play out. Stabler had a tendency to let his emotions dictate his actions. He had feeling Buffy was about to show him the error of his ways.  
  
"Come on detective," Buffy continued to press. "Let's see how good a protector you are."  
  
Stabler knew he was being baited. But he figured Buffy probably expected him to back down. So he decided to call her bluff. "You're on."  
  
He pulled up a chair on the opposide side of desk and took Buffy's hand.  
  
Buffy looked over, "Hey Fin, you want to count us down?"  
  
"No Problem," He said. He was going to enjoy this. He covered Buffy and Stabler's hand with his own and started counting. "One, two, three."  
  
As Tutuola lifted his hand Stabler exerted a little pressure. He didn't want to hurt Buffy.  
  
Nothing happened. She didn't even flinch. He looked at her. The same vacant California smile was on her face. He applied more force. Still nothing happened.  
  
"Whenever you're ready detective, we can start," Buffy said.  
  
Stabler was starting to wonder what the hell was going on. He applied even more force and her arm wouldn't budge. It was like trying to move a mountain.  
  
"Buffy," Dawn said. "We have work to do. Stop playing with the nice detective."  
  
"Ok."  
  
Stabler was still staring at her and for a brief second he saw what Munch and Tutuola had been talking about. Her eyes changed. The California girl was gone and something else was in its place.  
  
Suddenly she applied pressure and Stabler's hand hit the desk with a resounding thud. Stabler felt pain shooting through his arm. Nothing was broken. But he was pretty sure that was only because Buffy didn't want to break anything.  
  
Buffy got up from the desk. "Well now that that's done, Munch, Fin I believe we were planning on doing a couple of more interviews this afternoon. Why don't we get to them?"  
  
They both gave Stabler a smile as they followed Buffy out of the squad room.  
  
Dawn walked up to Stabler and patted him on the back. "Relax detective all she did was embarrass you a little. It's not like she tore the arm out of its socket. And for future reference; she hates being patronized," Dawn leaned in a little. "And so do I."  
  
With that she went back to Benson's desk to start working again.  
  
Dr. Wong walked up next. "Remember what I said about not underestimating them and treating them with respect. One of these days detective, you really do need to learn to listen to my advice."  
  
Cragen just shook his head in disbelief and went back to his office.  
  
Stabler just sat there thinking. What the hell was Buffy Summers? 


	9. Chapter Nine Translation

Chapter Nine – Translation

Detective Benson walked over to her desk where Dawn was typing away on her laptop.

"Quite a little display your sister put on," she said.

Dawn shrugged her shoulders. "Not really. I've seen her do better."

"She does that kind of thing often?"

"Only when it needs to be done," Dawn responded. "She really doesn't like to be patronized. She's use to people underestimating her. She can deal with that. But the patronizing thing really annoys her."

"What about you?" Benson asked.

"I've had more practice dealing with silly old men who underestimate me because of my age and looks and then resent me because I'm better at their jobs than they are."

"Got to be tough running a company at your age."

"Guardian pretty much runs itself," Dawn replied. As much as she hated to admit it, Quentin Travers really had set up a good system with Guardian. The company provided an independent source of revenue, a way to recruit potential watchers and a great means to track various mystical artifacts. He apparently did have a few innovative ideas in his early days at the Council.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Somebody needs an appraisal, they call us and we pick the best person for the job, then do it. Everything after that is just paperwork, making sure the bills get paid and the clients pay up on time."

"With someone like Buffy to collect the bills, I image that's not much of a problem."

Dawn had the sudden image of a couple of Slayers 'talking' with some of their more annoying clients. She shook it off. Giles would go ballistic. Besides it would be wrong. Very very wrong.

"I'll keep that in mind," Dawn said. "But I think we've had enough of the pumping me for information portion of our afternoon."

"Have I been that obvious?"

"No," Dawn replied. "I bet you're pretty good in an interrogation."

"Thanks," Benson said. "You have to admit though, it's pretty strange how much knowledge you and Buffy seem to have about serial killers and how to track them."

"I don't suppose you're going to buy the old we both love watching cop shows on TV line," Dawn smiled back.

Benson shook her head, "No."

"Darn, I had a whole spiel about CSI all worked out," Dawn said. "Look, I like you Olivia. And more importantly Xander liked you. And he's the best judge of character I know. But like Buffy said yesterday, there are certain things we're just not allowed to talk about. You're just going to have to accept that."

Benson spent a few seconds studying Dawn then made a decision. "Fine. So where are you with the translation?"

"Hitting a dead end. I've narrowed down the region. This looks to be a language that popped up for couple of centuries before disappearing in the crisscross of armies that marched across Eastern Europe. Probably used by a pre-cursor to one the gypsy tribes."

"So what's the problem narrowing it down further?"

"I've been operating on the assumption that the killer is marking the bodies using the names of the gods or demons that he's making the sacrifices too. But so far nothing is coming up as a match for any of the various entities worshiped in that region in the first millennium."

"So maybe our perp is using something else?" Benson thought for a second. "All the victims come from different backgrounds. Different jobs, different ages, different sexes. Maybe the markings are meant to identify them in some way."

Dawn stopped moving for a second, then closed her eyes and nodded her head. "Damn, I hate it when I'm stupid. That makes sense. That's the link. He kills them someplace else. That place is already dedicated to his god. But he would need to identify the offering," Dawn started working on her keyboard again. "Ok, it's not likely that age is the identifier. Job or title is more likely."

"Margaret Charney was a grade school teacher."

"So we have teacher, mentor, educator, guide," she kept typing. "What about the second victim."

"College student."

"Major?"

"Communications."

"Anything else?"

"He was a track star," Benson answered. "Specialized in distance running."

"Ok, that means, student, athlete, competitor, scholar, apprentice, runner, messenger."

"Messenger?" Benson was thrown off.

"For a lot of centuries runners were used as the principle means to deliver messages. He specialized in distance running. It might be a match."

"Gotcha. That just leaves Emily Gaston."

Dawn took a breath. "Appraiser, curator, keeper of antiquities," she kept typing.

"Alright the new search programs are running," Dawn said. She looked over at Benson. "Good thinking Olivia. If you ever get tired of your current job, give me a call. We're always looking for good people."

"Somehow I don't think I'd fit in with old men and a bunch of books and antiques."

"You'd be surprised," Dawn said.

The computer started beeping. Dawn leaned over her keyboard and started typing again.

"Ok that narrows it down to a workable number," she began typing again. Benson watched as she stopped and studied the screen. She pulled up a second window and began scrolling through both of them. She nodded her head and pulled up a third window and started typing again. Benson watched her go through the process for maybe twenty minutes. Only pausing to ask for a cup of water.

Finally after nearly thirty minutes she smiled. "Bingo."

"You found it."

"Yep," Dawn said. "The tribe that used it came into being in roughly in the late second century. Wiped out in the mid fifth century. They lived in what we would now refer to as the southern Romania northern Bulgaria region."

She continued. "The first marking translates loosely as mentor. The second as athlete and the third as judge."

"Judge?"

"A more literal translation would be 'the judge of value' which is what an appraiser is." Dawn replied. "Now I can e-mail Linda in London with what we know about the ritual that's being used and on the information about the types of sacrifices. She can check through rituals used in that region in the second through fifth centuries. Hopefully she can get us an answer by tomorrow morning."

"You guys have a library of occult rituals?"

"We have a library that covers many subjects," Dawn replied. "Occult rituals is just one of them. We also have a surprisingly large collection of albums from the sixties and seventies that we inherited from one of our board members after Willow finally convinced him to go digital. Even I have to admit some of them are pretty good. Now if I can just get him to stop dictating his e-mails to his secretary," she shook her head. "Total technophobe."


	10. Chapter Ten Innocent

Chapter Ten - Innocent

ADA Cabot and Captain Cragen were talking in his office the next morning.

"Tell me you've got something Captain," Cabot said.

"Dawn Summers identified the language our perp's writing on the victims," he replied. "She says her people in London should be able to identify the ritual he's following by sometime this morning."

"So working with Summers sisters has been helpful?" Cabot asked.

"According to Dr. Wong the information and insights they've provided about the perp's methods has been invaluable in narrowing the profile," Cragen replied. "And I don't think you're going to find too many people in New York that can translate a fifteen hundred year old dead language. Munch and Fin are about ready to erect a statue in honor of Buffy. She spotted stuff at the crime scenes we probably wouldn't have noticed until more bodies turned up."

"Have you been able to learn any more about their background?" Cabot asked.

"Well pretty much all the records from Sunnydale disappeared with the town," Cragen answered. "The only reason we got the hit on the case about the Deputy Mayor was because the killer turned herself in in LA and they had a copy of case file in their system. She's got a clean record in Cleveland. Dawn's lived in London for the last four years. I called the British Consul to try and get her record. They just said it was clean."

"What about the Foundation Buffy runs in Cleveland?"

"The Jenny Calendar Foundation. Not much I could find. It's a private group. Initial funding came from somewhere in England."

"Guardian Research?"

"No. Some private foundation based in England. When I asked, the British Consul said there was nothing there to find. I got the feeling somebody higher up the food chain in the British government told him to back off. Unless you want to start throwing around subpoenas we've hit a dead end."

Cabot looked out of the office at the Summers sisters talking with Benson and Wong. "They've worked with the FBI on cases that get classified by Homeland Security, the British government may be covering for them. Just what exactly are those two involved with?"

"All I know is they've been nothing but professional," Cragen said. "Other than Buffy nearly putting Elliot's arm through a desk they've been a pleasure to work with."

Cabot's head spun around, "She what?!?"

"Elliot got a little patronizing towards Buffy," Cragen explained. "She challenged him to an arm wrestling contest. She won."

"Elliot didn't throw it?"

"No," Cragen replied. "He told me a couple of hours later that he didn't think Dawn was joking when she told him afterwards that Buffy could have ripped his arm off."

Cabot looked out of the office again. "The blonde? She beat Elliot?"

"That woman is a lot stronger than she looks," Cragen said. "Don't underestimate her."

Tutuola came into the office, "Cap we got another victim. In the park."

"What do we know?" Cragen asked.

"Nothing yet," Tutuola replied.

"Grab Munch and Buffy and head out there," Cragen paused. "I'm coming with you on this one."

* * *

A short while later they arrived at the crime scene. As they approached the tape Cragen turned to Buffy, "Ms Summers."

"I know," she said. "Don't touch anything. Stand where I'm told to stand and just generally stay out of people's way. I'm just here as a consultant."

"Right."

They crossed under the tape and moved too a shallow area behind a grass covered hill. Munch looked startled.

"Hey Lennie, what are you doing here?"

"Call came to us first," Detective Briscoe replied. "We didn't figure out the victim was one of yours until we got here."

"Whose our victim?"

Lennie took a breath. "A girl looks to be about nine or ten."

Cragen shook his head. "Damn. Any idea who she is yet?"

"Clothes were left in a bag next to the body," Briscoe replied. "No ID. The name Amanda was stenciled on her shirt. My partner is already checking with missing persons. Looks like this bastard really worked her over."

"We need to see the body," Tutuola said.

"Over here," Biscoe ushered them down a path to where the ME was leaning over the body of a little girl.

Buffy tensed and then started looking around. She nodded her head pointed her finger. "Emily's body was that direction. She was pointing here."

"What?" Briscoe asked.

"Or perp points each victim in the direction where the next victim is found," Munch answered. "There's no fixed distance between them. And we haven't figured out the pattern. But each victim has been found on a straight line from where the previous one was pointing."

Munch and Briscoe moved towards the body to talk with the ME.

Buffy looked back at the body. She knew the person doing this wasn't a demon. She knew that from moment she saw Emily's body. Demon kills and real magic always left a certain feeling behind. She turned and walked up to the top of the hill that screened the path from the street. It wasn't a demon that killed that little girl. But it was a monster. The Slayer hunted monsters.

When she reached the top of the hill she reached out with all of her senses. Her senses had improved since Sunnydale. Giles had always tried to teach her how to use them, but it was like a blind man trying to teach someone about color. Working with all the new Slayers, Buffy was discovering senses and talents the old Council didn't even know the Slayer possessed.

And now she used all of them. She knew it was a long shot. But sometimes men like this liked to watch the chaos their actions caused. They reveled in the power. She studied every detail around her. She examined every person in the small crowd that inevitably gathered around crime scenes. A few of them backed up. Sensing something dangerous. The couple that caught her eye had to look away. She hunted the monster that killed a child.

She didn't sense him. She kept looking. She turned around, towards the crime scene. She smelled the blood. She felt death. Her eyes took in every detail. She heard every word spoken. She continued the hunt.

Cragen watched Buffy turn away from the body and start walking up the hill. At first he thought it was because she was upset. She couldn't deal with it. Then he caught her eyes. He found himself taking a step back. He watched as she walked up the hill. He and Tutuola followed her. They both stopped a few feet away. Not daring to get closer.

They watched as she studied the crowd. Then she turned and began studying the crime scene.

Cragen looked over at Tutuola. "Fin, what you were saying earlier about going for your gun."

"Yea," he replied. "Only you're pretty sure she'll take it away and feed it to you."

"That's the feeling."

Buffy stopped moving and Cragen thought he saw her eyes narrow. She started walking back down the hill. The couple of officers in her path moved aside. Probably didn't even realize they were doing it Cragen thought. Cragen and Tutuola followed her. She walked to a spot about thirty feet from where the body was found. She took a couple of steps off the trail and motioned to them.

"This is where he came in from," she pointed to some footprints about five feet off the trail.

"They stop before the trail. How can you be so sure?" Cragen asked.

She pointed to a couple of straight marks running parallel on the ground. "He laid something out to walk on so you wouldn't find the footprints."

Cragen saw what she was pointing at and turned back to the crime scene. "Munch, get CSU over here. We found the perp's entry point."

Buffy started moving into the trees. Cragen was about to stop her but he noticed she was careful to stay clear of the footprints left by the perp. Fin was right. She moved through the scene like a pro. He followed her. She followed the prints. Careful not to disturb them. She moved through the underbrush with ease. Both Cragen and Tutuola were having a hard time matching her pace. Tutuola stopped him.

"Look here Cap," he pointed to a branch. Cragen could see some torn cloth snagged on the end. "Looks like our boy left behind some clothes."

"Have CSU bag it," Cragen said. He noticed that Buffy had stopped a few feet ahead to wait for them. He nodded at her and she continued forward with the two detectives following her. A couple of minutes later they emerged from the tree line onto a sidewalk.

Buffy looked up.

"Trees extend out into the street. Good cover," she nodded her head and began scanning the sidewalk. She walked a few feet to the curb and crouched down.

"Here Captain. Blood," she said. Cragen looked to where she was pointing and saw the faint outline of bloodstains on the edge of the curb.

"Fin, get CSU up here and cordon off the area," Cragen said.

"I'm on it."

He watched Tutuola start down the sidewalk to get CSU. After he disappeared around the corner Cragen turned back to Buffy. The feeling of danger was gone. Standing in front of him was a normal determined professional woman. Cragen now knew that was an act.

"Alright young lady," he said. "What the hell are you?"

She looked him straight in the eye.

"Believe me Captain. You really do not want to know."

Cragen studied her for a few seconds. She had probably just saved CSU hours of work. She and her sister had probably shaved days if not weeks off the investigation. Every background check run for the last three days had either come up negative or hit a brick wall. He came to a decision.

Cragen nodded his head. "You're an outside consultant who specializes in occult and ritual killings."


	11. Chapter Eleven Ritual

Chapter Eleven – Ritual

Back at the squad room Dawn was working on her computer. She opened her E-mail.

"Damn."

"What is it Dawn?" Benson asked.

"Have they called in from the crime scene yet?"

"I think they're on the phone with Elliot now," Benson answered.

"The victim," Dawn paused. "It's a child. The bastard murdered a child."

"How do you know?"

"Linda found the ritual he's following," Dawn answered. "He's killing by type. The markings on the body will translate as 'innocent.'"

Stabler got off the phone, "That was Munch."

Benson looked over, "Was our victim a child?"

Stabler shook his head. "Munch said she looked about ten years old. How did you know?"

"Linda found the ritual," Dawn replied. "He's way off the pattern. The basic ritual is thirteen sacrifices. One performed on each full moon over thirteen months."

"What's he supposed to get out of it?" Benson asked.

"Power," Dawn replied. "Basically immunity from death; the power to advance as far as he wants; instant respect. The usual stuff," Dawn paused looking over the E-mail. "None of the bodies have been anointed with oil have they?"

"Nothing in the ME's reports about foreign substances left on the bodies." Benson replied.

"Do we know the last thing they ate? Anything the same for each victim?"

Benson began leafing through the files on her desk. "No, all three victims had different stomach contents. Why?"

"He's definitely working off a translation," Dawn said.

"Why do you say that?" Stabler asked.

"I'm translating on the fly, but the ritual is very specific about how the body is supposed to be prepared before the sacrifice," Dawn said. "He didn't do any of it; the final meal; proper anointing of the sacrifice. If he had access to this text, he would have known better. Now we just need to figure out which translation he's working with."

"Do you think that's possible?" Benson asked.

"It's a small world," Dawn replied. "Not that many people have access to materials like this and we know most of them. There are probably very few translations floating around."

"How did you get a hold of them?" ADA Cabot asked. She had been listening to the conversation.

"According to Linda, we picked up this set of scrolls at an estate sale about thirty years ago," Dawn gave the usual cover story. A previous Slayer had actually recovered them. "They've never really been of any use to us. We haven't even bothered adding them to our imaging database. That's why it took so long to find a match to the ritual. They've been sitting on the back shelves collecting dust for most of that time."

"Less then twenty four hours after you e-mail the request is a long time?" Benson said.

"For us, yes," Dawn just smiled back. "Now you know why we can charge so much for our services."

"If he's working off a translation, how do you plan on finding it?" Cabot asked.

"The tribe that developed this ritual was a pre-cursor to a large gypsy clan," Dawn thought for a second. "We'll start there. Very few people outside the gypsies are granted access to their rituals and translating them tends to take forever. The deviations from the base ritual should also help narrow it down and finding if anything is available in the New York area."

"Tell us who needs to be contacted and we'll make the inquires," Cabot said.

"No offence Ms Cabot, but that would probably slow things down," Dawn said.

"And why is that Ms Summers?"

"A lot of the people who work with occult related artifacts prefer to keep a low profile. Questions from government agencies tend to make them shut up. Assuming they even return your calls they won't answer your questions. They know us and trust us. They'll respond to our questions."

"Ms Summers, these people are not involved in anything illegal are they?" Cabot asked.

"No," Dawn said. "Its just that there are a lot of negative stereotypes about the occult. They don't like to advertise. If you ask they'll deny any knowledge. You'll try threatening them with legal stuff. And since a lot of the people we're going to be talking to initially are in Europe a New York DA won't scare them very much. If I find a link to New York, I'll let you know," Dawn went back to typing an e-mail to Linda.

"Ms Summers we need to make certain we can document the investigation," Cabot said.

"Don't worry," Dawn said. "Linda is one of my best people. She always takes complete notes when she's working a problem. You'll be able to backtrack everything she does."

"I don't like relying on outside groups to handle a police investigation."

"Look, how many people do you have on the payroll that can speak a half dozen gypsy dialects?"

"None that I know of," Cabot replied.

"Do you have the heads of the two largest gypsy clans in Europe on speed dial? Not that they would be willing to talk to you if you did."

"I understand what you're saying Ms Summers, its just."

"I'll make sure Linda documents everything," Dawn cut in. "But if we do this your way it's going to take you weeks to get any information out of these people. And the odds are any information you do get will be useless. Finding this kind of stuff out is what we do. Just let us do it. I promise you will have a solid evidence chain."

Cabot thought it through. "Fine. But any leads you come across in New York, we follow up on."

"Not a problem."


	12. Chapter Twelve – Discussions

Chapter Twelve – Discussions

"Young girl found murdered in the park," Cragen started. "I've already fielded two phone calls from the Chief and the press is going to be all over us on this one people. So what have we got so far?"

"Briscoe and Greene traced the girl through missing persons," Munch replied. "Name, Amanda Peterson, age nine. She disappeared from her school playground just after school let out yesterday afternoon. Van Buren cleared them to follow up and do the interviews at the school."

"We know our perp likes to stalk his victims before hand so make sure they ask about strange men watching the school over the last couple of days," Cragen said.

"Public school in New York, already too many of those guys watching the playground," Tutuola said.

"What's the connection between the victims?" Stabler asked. "He plans these murders in advance and he's working off this ritual thing. He has to have some means to pick his targets."

Benson looked over at Dawn. "Whose next on the list?"

"According to the ritual the next sacrifice is 'tiller of the soil,'" Dawn answered.

"So a farmer, gardener maybe a florist," Stabler said.

"Pretty much," Dawn said. "Farmer would be the ideal match but anybody whose main job is to work with the soil would fit the ritual."

"That narrows it down to several thousand people in the New York area," Munch said.

"Are there any special items he would need for the ritual?" Buffy asked. "Something that would be hard to find? Something we could trace?"

Dawn looked back at her notes. "Not really. The herbs he could probably find at the local store. He might even grow them himself. The rest of this stuff you could find at a well-stocked magic shop," She continued to study. "Here's something. He needs a crystal, blessed by a priest of the old ways. He would need it to consecrate the place where he makes the sacrifice."

"That's a specialty item?" Benson asked.

"Depends on how smart he is," Dawn replied. "An amateur could be fooled by any old crystal a shopkeeper says is blessed the proper way. But if he were smart enough to do the research on the ritual then he might know what kind crystal to look for. How it would need to be cut, the proper shape, markings, age and what questions to ask the shopkeeper about the blessing ceremony," she didn't add that the true practitioner could spot a fake just by feel. But this killer didn't have that kind of power or skill.

"Our killer is intelligent," Dr. Wong said. "He also believes in this ritual. He would have done as much research as he could into how it works and what he would need before the first murder."

"So we canvas occult and magic shops to find someone who purchased the items needed for the ritual," Cragen said.

"That could take days," Tutuola said. "Our perp operates all over the city. We have no way to narrow down the search to a particular area. Just how many occult shops are in New York?"

Benson was flipping through the phone book. "I'd say over fifty."

"Probably more," Dawn said. "A lot of the serious magic shops don't advertise. They prefer word of mouth. They also tend to get misclassified as specialty stores or antique shops."

"If our perp sticks to his current time table he'll kill again within the next seventy two hours," Cragen said. "Anybody got any better ideas."

Buffy leaned back against a desk in thought. "Maybe there is a way to narrow it down," she pulled out her cell phone and hit the speed dial. "Amy, stuck on phone duty again huh ... I need to talk to Eric ... Eric, it's Buffy ... Yea, Dawn and I are still in New York. I need you and Faye to do some leg for me ... I don't care if you're taking some down time, we've got a killer out here who just murdered a nine year old girl using a gypsy ritual ... I need you two to check with any recent New York transplants," she nodded over to Dawn who was already moving to her laptop.

She continued, "Dawn's going to e-mail a list of items this guy would need for the ritual. I need you and Faye to find out where a wannabe would go to get those kind of items in New York ... Right, an amateur. He'll be smart enough to ask the right questions ... That's the kind we're looking for ... As soon as you can get it to me ... No he doesn't like it but Dawn and I can handle him ... Thanks Eric," Buffy hung up the phone.

"What was that about?" Munch asked.

"A couple of my people in Cleveland are going to check with recent New York transplants to find out where someone would go to get the crystal and the other stuff he needs," Buffy replied.

"I just sent him the e-mail," Dawn said. "Like I said before, it's a small world. There's not going to be that many shops that sell crystals blessed with the proper gypsy rituals. They'll be a lot of shops that might say they do, but only a couple that really do."

"And you two know how to find those shops?" Munch asked.

"I told you," Buffy said. "My organization watchdogs cult groups. A lot of them are into ritual magic. We have a few contacts."

"How long until we get an answer?" Stabler asked.

"With Eric and Faye," Buffy said. "I'd say in couple of hours. They're very persistent and they've got good contacts."

Faye was one of the Slayers from Sunnydale. Very few people were foolish enough to not answer her questions. Besides, after four years, the Cleveland magic community had learned the advantages of cooperating with the Slayers and the rather severe consequences of getting in their way.

"This Eric wouldn't happen to be Eric Travers?" Munch asked. He looked over at Dawn. "One of your predecessors at Guardian Research."

"Yes," Buffy replied.

"He went from running Guardian Research to working for you," Munch pointed at Buffy.

"Eric wanted to spend time pounding the pavement," Buffy said. "He didn't think it was right just sitting in an office all day. Puts him way ahead of his grandfather."

Cragen turned the conversation back the killer. "People let's stay focused. Is there anything too where he leaving the bodies? Is he creating some kind of occult symbol?"

"There's nothing in the ritual about what to do with bodies after the sacrifice," Dawn replied. "Either it's something from the translation he's working off of or something from his own head."

"Doctor?"

Dr. Wong paused in thought. "It's possible pointing the victims to next drop site is something he's doing subconsciously. Or the pattern he's using is something he picked up elsewhere that has meaning to him."

"I've run the pattern through our database," Dawn said. "Nothing comes up as a match."

"None of which tells us how he picks the victims," Stabler said. "What's the connection between these four people?"

"They're not random," Dr. Wong said. "He has some way to select and find his victims. It's probably something transitory. Someplace he's connected too intimately but they've only visited once or twice. Probably where he works."

"Like a restaurant or bar," Tutuola said.

"Possible," Dr. Wong replied. "But he's too intelligent to work in places like that."

"Maybe they have the same insurance company or used the same travel agent or they've shopped at the same bookstore." Stabler said.

"It needs to be someplace where he can learn what they do for living and where they live," Benson said.

"Munch, Tutuola you two stay with the ritual. Benson, Stabler, go back to the families," Cragen said. "Check everything, vacations, favorite restaurants, book clubs anything that might link our four victims. Go back through credit card statements for any place they may have shopped at in the last six months. Chief's already authorized all the overtime we need on this one and we can pull in resources from other units. We've had three victims in less then ten days and four overall. I want this guy caught before we get a fifth."


	13. Chapter Thirteen Connections

Chapter Thirteen – Connections

Eric e-mailed Dawn a list of occult shops where a smart amateur could pick up the supplies he needed for the ritual. It wasn't the two or three Buffy had been hoping for. The list had fourteen shops. Three sold genuine crystals, the others sold replicas or fakes good enough to fool an amateur.

Buffy, Munch and Tutuola had spent the rest of the afternoon going to occult shops and tracking leads. They started with the shops that sold genuine crystals. Between them seven people had purchased the proper crystal since the beginning of the year.

They were leaving an apartment complex.

"Gift to bless the birth of a new member of the clan, protective charm to keep out evil spirits, anointing a new alter," Munch said. "How many different uses for these crystals are there?"

"There tools Munch," Buffy said. "And like any good tool there are a lot of different uses. Most of them are benign. Some of them, unfortunately, can be bad. What this guy is doing is a perversion."

"If only people would learn to use their crystals for good instead of evil," Munch deadpanned.

"Something like that," Buffy smiled back.

"You a gypsy now?" Tutuola asked.

"No," Buffy replied. "But I've met enough of the real thing to know the difference between what they practice and what this bastard's doing."

"Well," Munch said. "That takes care of the real McCoys. Now we start on the shops that sell knockoffs."

"Getting late," Tutuola looked down at a sheet of paper. "Most are either closed or will be by the time we get there."

"So start again tomorrow morning?" Buffy asked.

"We'll drop you at your hotel," Munch replied.

* * *

The next morning as the sisters came into the station house Dawn was talking on her cell phone.

"Right," she said. "You don't know what's in the translations but you're fairly certain he was working with the scrolls ... That sounds about as close as we're going to get ... Tell him I said thanks and he only owes us a couple of hundred favors now ... Just e-mail everything to me then go home and get some sleep ... We'll take it from here Linda. Go home. Get sleep ... Bye."

"So what's up?" Benson asked.

"Linda found a lead on a German scholar who may have worked with the scrolls in the late eighteenth century," Dawn answered. "He's notorious for the poor quality of his translations."

"So how does that help us?"

"The Pierpont Morgan Library has a collection of his works in their archives," Dawn replied. "Linda couldn't find out if it includes a translation of our ritual but it's the closest she could find to a link to New York."

"I'll grab the Captain," Stabler said.

"Give me second, I need to make a quick phone call," Dawn hit the speed dial on her phone, waited for a second and then punched in an extension. She waited another couple of seconds, "Willow, Dawn ... Yes we're still in New York and I'm sorry you've had to bear the brunt of Giles' annoyance ... Willow I need you to go down to research and make sure Linda goes home and gets some sleep ... Because I'm pretty sure she hasn't slept in over thirty six hours ... Nine year old girl murdered ... Exactly. Thanks Willow. Take care of Linda for me and I'll say hi to Buffy for you," she clicked off the phone and looked over at Buffy. "Willow says hi."

"And that was about?" Benson asked.

"Linda has two nieces ages eight and six that she absolutely adores," Dawn said. "I doubt she's slept since she found the scrolls."

"I understand," Benson said.

"Giles is Dr. Rupert Giles?" Munch asked.

"Yep," Dawn replied. She started setting up her laptop.

"Knew him for seven years before I found out he had two doctorate degrees," Buffy said. "I still can't believe he didn't tell us."

"And how do you know he didn't," Dawn said. "You did have a tendency to zone out whenever he went into professor mode."

"I was not that bad," Buffy shot back. "I always paid attention to the important stuff. And Willow was just as surprised as Xander and I were and she loved professor mode."

Cragen walked up at that point. "I just got off the phone with the Chief. Elliot says you may have a lead."

"German scholar, there may be a translation of the ritual in The Morgan Library's archives," Dawn said.

"Benson, Stabler, check it out," Cragen said. "Dawn since you speak Museum, go with them to make sure this translation is what we're looking for."

"Ok," Dawn replied. "I got to warn you, my German's a little rusty."

"You can translate a fifteen hundred year old dead language on the fly and your German's a little rusty?" Benson said.

"I don't use it that often," Dawn shrugged. "I spend most of my time dealing with dead languages."

Cragen shook his head. "Munch, Tutuola, where are we with the magic shops?"

"We've eliminated the spots where he could have gotten a real crystal," Munch said. "Two of the buyers left town, the other five all seem to have legitimate uses for their crystals."

"Legitimate uses for a magic crystal," Cragen shook his head. "I've officially heard everything. Start on the other stores."

"We're on it," Tutuola said.

* * *

Three hours later Buffy, Munch and Tutuola were walking up to their fourth magic shop of the day.

"Well the good news is we don't have to chase down a lot of buyers," Munch said. "The bad news is, we don't have any leads."

"People in the know won't buy from these kind of shops," Buffy said. "The customers who come to places like this are wannabes who think they know a lot but really don't know anything."

"Let's hope our perp falls into that category," Tutuola held the door open for Buffy and Munch.

Buffy shook her head as she walked into the shop. It was just like the other three. All the outward trappings of a magic supply store. But far too new age and obviously set up to exploit people's ignorance. Nothing here had any real power. This type of place fed the worst stereotypes about magic. Willow went ballistic over places like this.

A man looked up from the counter. "How may I help you today, a charm for luck, perhaps one to guard you in the dark."

"Already got one of those," Munch said, holding up his badge. "Detectives Munch and Tutuola. We need to find out if anyone has purchased these items in the last three months," he handed a list over to man behind the counter.

He looked the list over for a few seconds, "Yes we sell these items, but I don't recall anyone buying them." Munch noticed that he wouldn't look him in the eyes.

"Maybe you should take a closer look," Munch said. "Perhaps check your sales receipts."

He glimpsed down at the list again and starting shaking his head, "No I'm certain I would remember such a sale."

Tutuola leaned over the counter. "Why do I get the feeling you're not being honest with us."

"I assure you officer. I'm telling the truth," he still wouldn't meet their eyes.

"You know I bet you do a lot of cash business in a place like this," Munch said. "Tell me do you always keep up with your sales taxes?"

The man started getting nervous.

"Maybe I should put a call in," Munch continued. "Have them shut you down for a couple of weeks while they go over your books. While they do that I'll have the DA subpoena your customer list and we'll send officers to talk to each and every one of them. We'll be certain to say you sent them."

"Of course if you tell us who bought this stuff, my partner might forget to make that call," Tutuola said.

"Officer that really won't be necessary," the man said. "I don't understand your hostility."

"This is murder investigation," Munch said. "These items were used to murder four people. Now if we find out you supplied them and then lied to us about it, we can charge you as an accessory to four murders."

"I bet the boys at the cell block could come up with some real interesting uses for one of these crystals." Tutuola waved his hand over the display case holding various crystals and pendants.

"Please," the man was sweating. "I don't know anything. This guy came in at the beginning of the year. Handed me a list that looked almost identical to this one. Said he was going to make a big change in his life. I didn't know he was going to do anything."

"Have you seen him since then?" Munch said.

"Yes. He came in again about three weeks ago. Bought some more herbs, few ceremonial candles, a couple of other things. He said things were going perfectly, he found everyone he needed."

"We need a name," Tutuola said.

"I don't have it. He paid cash for everything. Gave me an extra hundred last time and said to forget I ever saw him."

Tutuola grabbed the man's shoulder and walked him out from behind the counter. "Guess what, you're closing early today."

"Why?"

"You're coming down to the station house to sit with one our sketch artists."

"But my store."

"I can still make that call," Munch said. "Your choice. An afternoon or a couple of weeks."

The man's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Just let me lock up the cash register."


	14. Chapter Fourteen Name

Chapter Fourteen - Name

The Director of The Morgan Library met Benson, Stabler and Dawn just outside of his office.

"Detectives Benson and Stabler," he said. "I met with two of your colleagues a couple of days ago."

"That would be detectives Munch and Tutuola Dr. Crowther," Stabler said. "We're here following up on a lead."

"Anything I can do to help," Director Crowther said. "Ms Gaston was a fine woman. As you know she did an appraisal for us last year. I was delighted to learn she would be based in New York permanently. A terrible loss. Please step into my office," he motioned the three into a well appointed office. Dawn was reminded of a few of her professors' offices from Oxford.

"I did not catch your name young lady," the Director said as he motioned for them to sit down.

"Dawn Summers," she replied.

The director did a double take. "Dawn Summers? You run Guardian Research?"

"Yes."

"You wrote the article on translating renaissance texts? Your theory on the role mythology and mysticism played in influencing writing styles was fascinating. And surprisingly well documented."

"Thanks. I wrote that during my last year at Oxford," Dawn replied. "Professor McAdam arranged for it to get published last month. At some point I plan on expanding it into a full doctoral dissertation. But that's a ways off."

"I look forward to reading it," he said. "But I digress. Detectives what is it you require of me?"

"We need to see a set of books from a Joseph Beiner, "Benson said.

"Beiner?" the director turned to a computer on a small side desk. "I don't recall the name."

"The Library purchased the collection in 1928," Dawn said. "I believe they were purchased because of the bindings and printing methods used to make them."

Crowther nodded his head, "Ah yes here it is. Beiner. Terrible scholar. But quite innovative in the process he used to make his books. Why do you need to see them?"

"We believe the person who killed Ms Gaston may be following a ritual described in the books," Benson said.

"Ah yes Beiner believed in all that supernatural claptrap," Crowther said. "I can take you down the archive rooms. But please be careful. You understand we don't just let anyone see these books."

"It won't take me very long to confirm what we looking for," Dawn said.

"Who does have access to Beiner's books?" Benson asked.

"The staff here of course," Crowther replied. "And visiting scholars or researches can make an appointment to examine the texts."

"We'll need to see a list of everyone who either had access to those books or made an appointment to study them in the last six months," Stabler said.

"My secretary can get you a list of researches," Crowther replied. "But I can't believe any of my people would be involved in something like this."

"That's for us to decide Doctor," Stabler said. He paused in thought. "Do you keep a mailing list of patrons? A friends of the library sort of thing."

"Yes of course," Dr. Crowther replied. "Many of our patrons like to be notified when a certain collection goes on display or when new material comes in."

"And that list include address, occupation, family information?" Stabler asked.

"Yes," Dr. Crowther answered. "Patrons can fill out that information out if they wish too."

"I'd like to see that list while my partner and Ms Summers examine the Beiner texts," Stabler said.

"My secretary can take you down there," Dr. Crowther said. He pushed a button on his phone. "Janet could you step in here for a moment," Janet stepped into the office a few seconds later. "Janet please take detective Stabler down to patron services. I'll be taking these other two down the archives."

* * *

About an hour later Benson, Stabler and Dawn met again in Library's main reading room.

Dawn was nodding her head. "There's a translation of the scrolls. And it explains some of the discrepancies from the original ritual. Beiner left out everything about preparing the sacrifice. He also screwed up the timing. He said the first sacrifice needed to be done on a full moon, but after that the next sacrifice can be done at any point in the next thirteen months. With the remainder following every two to five days."

"I found the link between our victims," Stabler said. "All four are on the library's patron list. They put down home address and occupation."

"Emily Gaston I can understand," Benson said. "But why would the other three be on the list?"

"Mrs. Charney was a grade school teacher," Dawn said. "The Morgan has an extensive collection of children's literature. Thomas Nickles may have come here to research something for school. I don't get Amanda Peterson though."

"Her mother, Diane Peterson, is a professor of literature at NYU," Stabler said. "Her name, along with the names of her three children, is on the list."

"I'll call Cabot," Benson said. "We can get a subpoena for their employee records just in case Dr. Crowther decides to be uncooperative."

"Already did it," Stabler said. "It will be here in thirty minutes. Munch and Fin say they found the shop where our perp bought his supplies. They're taking the shopkeeper down to the station house to do a sketch. As soon as they have it, they'll bring it here. Maybe we'll get lucky and get an ID."

* * *

A short while later Tutuola was handing Dr. Crowther a sketch.

"That looks a little like Alan," Dr. Crowther said.

"Alan who?" Stabler asked.

"Alan Cummings," Dr. Crowther replied. "He left us about four weeks ago now. His main job was cataloguing our collection and sorting new materials. Bright young man, Bachelors in Literature and a Masters in Library Sciences. He started as an intern when he was working on his Masters. Had the same position for eleven years now."

"We'll need to see his file," Stabler said.

"Yes of course," Dr Crowther looked towards the door and raised his voice. "Janet," he waited until Janet poked his head in the door. "Take the detectives down to personnel. They need to get a file," Tutuola and Munch left with the secretary.

"Do you know if he could have translated the ritual in the Beiner book?" Benson asked.

"He spoke both French and German," Dr. Crowther replied. "He did occasionally help with the translations of texts written in those languages."

"Does he have access to your patron's list?" Stabler asked.

"I don't know," Dr. Crowther said. "When we get new material in, some of staff do request copies of the list in order to include special notes with the mailings. And I suppose anyone with access to one of our computers can look up the information."

"We need to talk to Cabot about a warrant," Benson said.


	15. Chapter Fifteen Tracking

Chapter Fifteen – Tracking

The detectives met back at the squad room to brief Cabot and Cragen.

"Alan Cummings had access to the ritual," Munch started. "According to the Library's marketing department he also requested a complete copy of the patron's list just before he left. That gives him the victim's names and addresses. He also purchased the types of supplies needed to perform the ritual."

"That's enough to get us search warrant for his residence," Cabot said. "And to bring him in for questioning. But we still don't have anything directly linking him to the murders."

"We do now," Stabler walked into the squad room. "The Morgan Library fingerprints its employees. Cummings' came back as a match to prints found at all four crime scenes."

Cabot nodded her head. "Pick him up. I'll get the search warrant."

"Take back up," Cragen said. "This guy's murdered four people in cold blood."

"Captain," Buffy started. "I'd like to come along. I promise I'll stay out of the way."

"I'm sorry Buffy," Cragen replied. "You and Dawn have been a tremendous help in finding this guy. But there is no way I can justify letting a civilian go on an arrest."

"Ok, I guess I understand," Buffy suppressed the Slayer. This was a matter for the police now. "We'll stay here."

* * *

Benson watched as the lead cop busted down the door to Cummings' house.

"NYPD, we have a warrant!" police flooded the house. She and Stabler followed behind, guns out and ready.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

Benson and Stabler paused in the living room. Munch and Tutuola came in from the back.

"Doesn't look like our boy's here," Tutuola said.

One of the officers came in from the bedroom. "The house is empty. Nobody home."

"Alright search the place," Stabler said.

Tutuola was looking around. "We're not going to find much. I don't think this is where he does his rituals."

"Why not?" Benson asked.

"House is wide open to the street," Tutuola replied. "No way to get a person in or out of here without being seen. Cummings likes cover."

"So we check to see if he owns any other property, maybe a storage shed," Stabler said. "By now he's already stalking his next victim. We need to find this guy."

"I'll call the Captain," Benson said. "Get him to issue an APB for both Cummings and his car."

"Detectives," one of the uniformed officers came in carrying a blue jacket.

"Blood on the jacket," Munch said looking it over.

"Tear on the sleeve," Tutuola pointed to the sleeve. "And it's the same color as the fabric we found at the last crime scene."

"Bag it and take it down to the lab," Munch said handing it back to the officer.

* * *

"People tell me we've got something," Cragen said.

"Canvas of his neighborhood is coming up blank," Stabler said. "He quit his job about four weeks ago. Just two days after Emily Gaston added her name to the library's mailing list."

"Anything from his co-workers?" Cragen asked.

"Not much," Benson said. "According the library director he said he was leaving to pursue a new calling."

"Murder as a calling," Munch said.

"What about other property?"

"So far nothing," Stabler said. "My guess is he's paying cash for a storage shed somewhere to do his rituals. Something we won't be able to trace easily."

"Anything from the house yet?"

"Blood on the jacket is a match for Amanda's," Tutuola said. "Lab's doing DNA now."

"He's using this mailing list to pick his victims," Cragen said. "Let's see if we can beat him to the next one. Dawn, does this Beiner guy's translation still list 'tiller of the soil' as the next victim?"

"The order of the sacrifices is about the only thing Beiner got right," Dawn replied.

"Munch, Fin, go over the mailing list," Cragen said. "Find anyone who might match with what he's looking for. Cummings likes to stalk his victims. He should be nearby."

Munch and Tutuola nodded their heads and went to get a copy of the list.

"Benson, Stabler, go back the Library, interview his co-workers again. Find out where this guy likes hang out," Cragen said. "Serial killers are creatures of habit. He'll go back to one of those places eventually."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Buffy asked.

"You've done quite enough Buffy," Cragen said. "You and Dawn should head back to your hotel now. I'll call you when we catch Cummings."

"If you don't mind Captain I'd like to stay here until you catch him," Buffy said.

"And I still need to do a little more work on the Beiner translation," Dawn said.

"Fine," Cragen responded. "Why don't you use the couch upstairs to rest up a bit?"

"Thanks Captain," Buffy turned and headed up the stairs. A couple of minutes later Dawn headed up carrying two cups of coffee. She sat down next to Buffy and handed her one of the cups.

"My turn," Dawn said. "You ok."

"I'm fine," Buffy replied. "I just hate doing nothing. A part of me wants to be out there. On the hunt."

"These guys are good Buffy," Dawn said. "They've got a name, a face, everything they need to find him. He's not going to get away."

"I know," Buffy said. She paused for a second and reached out with her senses. She nodded her head lowered her voice. "This ritual he's using. If he actually knew what he was doing, could he have accomplished anything?"

"Not with translation he's using," Dawn replied. "I suppose if he tried it on a Hellmouth he would have attracted the attention of some demonic entity. Most likely he would have just gotten himself killed."

"Just a guy playing with things he doesn't understand," Buffy said.


	16. Chapter Sixteen Power

Chapter Sixteen – Power

Munch and Tutuola were going over printouts of The Morgan Library's patron list.

"Doesn't look like a lot of farmers like to look at old books," Munch said.

"I think I got something," Tutuola said. "Dennis Glaser, he's a lawyer, but he listed his wife as a landscape architect."

"Landscapers spend a lot of time tilling the soil," Munch responded. "Let's check it out."

* * *

It was early evening when Munch and Tutuola knocked on the door of Dennis and Patricia Glaser's brownstone. A middle-aged man answered the door.

"Yes," he said.

"Mr. Glaser," Munch held up his badge. "Detectives Munch and Tutuola NYPD."

"How may I help you officers?" Mr. Glaser said.

"Is your wife home tonight?" Munch asked.

"Yes," Mr. Glaser replied. "She's upstairs changing. We have tickets to a late show this evening. What's this about? Why do you want to see Pat?"

"We're just doing some checking," Munch replied. "Your both patrons of The Morgan Library?"

"Yes," Mr. Glaser. "Detectives, I'm a lawyer. What is this about? Are you accusing us of some crime?"

"Hey Munch," Tutuola said. "What kind of car does Cummings drive again?"

"2000 Ford Taurus, blue," Munch replied.

"About a half block down, other side of the street, under a burnt out street light," Tutuola said. "There's a guy sitting in a Taurus."

"Mr. Glaser, close and lock your door please," Munch said.

"What's going on?" Mr. Glaser. "Is there someone out there?"

"Mr. Glaser just close your door and stay inside," Munch gently pulled the door closed.

Munch and Tutuola started down the street, careful not to look at the car. Just looking like two guys walking. As they walked Tutuola pulled out his cell phone and called for backup. When they reached the end of the block they crossed to the other side of the street and approached the Taurus from behind.

As they moved up behind the car Tutuola moved out into the street. He had his gun out and hidden behind his leg. Munch moved up on the other side of the car. The driver's side window was open. Tutuola signaled to Munch and pulled out his gun. He pointed it directly at the man's head.

"Police!" Tutuola shouted. "Keep your hands where I can see them!"

Munch came around the front of the car. He had his gun out. When he reached the driver's side Tutuola pulled the door open dragged the man out onto the street.

"You can not touch me," the man said. "I am protected by a power you can not understand."

"Maybe not," Munch said. "But I do understand this. Alan Cummings, you are under arrest for the murders of Margaret Charney, Thomas Nickles, Emily Gaston and Amanda Peterson. You have the right to remain silent ...."

* * *

Buffy and Dawn were looking through the two-way mirror into the interrogation room. Stabler and Tutuola were trying to talk with Alan Cummings who was handcuffed and just sitting there saying nothing.

Buffy studied Cummings. He was maybe five nine, five ten. Looked to be in good shape. Probably worked out some. She recalled Benson mentioning something about exercise equipment at his house. He had dark hair, cut short. He looked just like an ordinary guy. Her senses told her he had no magic, no power. Buffy shook her head.

Benson came up to the sisters. "I've been doing this for a lot of years. Every once and a while I still expect these guys to have horns, fangs, something that makes it obvious they're monsters."

Buffy smirked, "It's never that obvious. Even with the ones who have fangs."

"Excuse me?" Benson said.

"Long story," Buffy responded.

"And you wouldn't believe most of it," Dawn added.

"So what happens now?" Buffy asked.

"He'll be arraigned tomorrow morning," Cabot walked up. "He'll be remanded to custody. No judge is going to grant bail to someone who murdered a child. We've already got enough physical evidence to convict him on all four murders. And that's before we match his DNA to the semen recovered at the crime scenes. Has he asked for a lawyer?"

"Not yet," Benson said. "Hasn't said a word since John and Fin brought him in. The only thing he said to them was that he was protected. Whatever that means."

Dawn looked over at Buffy who just shook her head.

"We don't need a confession," Cabot said. "Stop the interrogation. I don't want to risk this guy saying something without a lawyer present. I'm not taking any chances."

"Alright," Benson went to the door and motioned Stabler and Tutuola out of the room. A uniformed officer took their place in the room to watch Cummings.

"Guy just sits there," Stabler said. "Won't say a word."

"Looks like he's in shook," Tutuola said. "When we grabbed him, he acted like he couldn't believe we found him."

"Maybe he thought his 'magic' would protect him," Stabler said.

"Was he wearing anything?" Dawn asked. "Something like a charm or pendant?"

"Yea," Tutuola said. "He was wearing a necklace with some weird crystal. Got real upset when we took it off him."

"Can I see it?" Dawn asked. "I don't need to touch it or anything. I just want to look at it."

Tutuola looked over at Cabot who nodded her head. "Don't see a problem with that," he said.

He led the two sisters back to his desk where Munch was putting some items into a box.

"Hey Munch," Tutuola said. "You got that necklace we took off Cummings."

"Yea," Munch replied. "Got it right here," he pulled a clear plastic bag out of the box and handed it to Tutuola.

"So what do you make of this?" Tutuola said handing the bag to Dawn.

Dawn smiled and shook her head. "This guy's even dumber and more ignorant of magic then I thought."

"Why?" Benson asked. "What is that?"

"It's a replica of a gypsy charm," Dawn said. "You can tell because it's made from the wrong color crystal."

"So what's funny about it?" Tutuola said.

"It's supposed to protect the righteous from those who would seek to do them harm," Dawn said.

"Cummings is not righteous," Munch said.

"No kidding," Dawn replied. "They say when someone like him tries to use a charm like this, it draws the forces of righteousness directly too him."

"How can you be so certain it's a fake?" Cabot asked.

Dawn smiled. She reached up to the chain of her necklace and pulled out the crystal that was hidden under her shirt out. It was cut into almost the same shape as the one in the bag but was blue instead of red.

"I got this as a gift from the head of one of those gypsy clans I mentioned the other day," Dawn said.

Cragen walked up at that moment. "Since Cabot says we don't need a confession, let's take Cummings down to central booking."

"We're on it," Tutuola said. He and Munch went back to the interrogation room. A couple of minutes later they came back into the squad room escorting a handcuffed Alan Cummings.

"You think you can hold me," Cummings started saying. "I aspire to the power of a god. You can not hope to hold me."

Buffy turned to stare at him. She let the Slayer out. She directed all of her senses at him, all of her power. The people around her took an involuntary step back. Only Dawn held her ground. Cummings stopped talking as Buffy met his eyes. He just froze and a look of terror crossed his face. Buffy pulled the Slayer back. She snorted.

"You're not a god," she said. "You're just man. A very small little man, who's going to spend the rest of his life in a very small cage," she turned her back on him.

Munch and Tutuola jerked Cummings back into motion and continued out of the squad room. Cummings' mouth just hung open as he stared at Buffy.

Cabot blinked. "What the hell was that?"

"He thought he understood power," Buffy smiled. "I thought I would introduce him to the real thing. I think he got the message. It's getting late. Dawn and I should probably head back to our hotel and make arrangements to get back to our lives. We'll swing by tomorrow and say bye on our way to the airport."

Buffy and Dawn left the squad room. Cabot turned to Cragen.

"If we hadn't let them help us, how long would it have taken to catch Cummings?" she asked.

"I don't know," Cragen replied. "We never would have found the link to the ritual or The Morgan Library without them. The magic store he used was listed as a specialty shop in the phone book, so I don't know how we would have found it. And we probably wouldn't have picked up on the stalking behavior until more bodies showed up."

"And what do you think they would have done if we hadn't let them in?" Cabot asked.

"I really don't want to know," Cragen replied. "But I'm pretty sure Alan Cummings is lucky we got to him before Buffy did."


	17. Chapter Seventeen Goodbyes

Chapter Seventeen – Goodbyes

It was late morning when Buffy and Dawn walked into the squad room. Benson looked up from her desk and smiled.

"Hey guys," she said. "I guess you two are heading our today."

"Yea," Buffy replied. "Dawn's flight back to London leaves in a couple of hours. Mine leaves after that. We just wanted to stop by and say bye."

Cragen and Cabot came out of the Captain's office.

"Buffy, Dawn, I just got back from the arraignment," Cabot said. "Judge remanded Cummings to custody. He plead not guilty, but the public defender assigned the case is already fishing for a plea."

"Are you planning on offering one?" Dawn asked.

"Four murders, including a child," Cabot shook her head. "My boss has already said we're going for the maximum on this one."

"What are your chances?" Buffy asked.

"Physical evidence is solid," Stabler responded. "Lab's matched his shoes to the prints found where Amanda was dumped, we've got fingerprints, DNA from the jacket we recovered at his house matches Amanda's and we should have the DNA match to his semen by the end of the day."

"Add to that we can link him to all four victims," Cabot continued. "And thanks to the ritual we have a motive. My guess is his lawyer will try for not guilty by reason of mental disease or defect."

"Do you think that will work?" Buffy asked.

"I doubt it," Cabot said. "I talked with Dr. Wong. The murders were all premeditated. He took steps to conceal his actions, which shows that he knew he was breaking the law. It won't fly. Contrary to what you may see on television, juries do not like an insanity defense. Not for child killers. We'll get him."

"Good," Buffy said. "Where's Munch and Fin, I really wanted to say bye to them before we left?"

"That's the other news," Benson said. "They found keys in Cummings pocket. We traced them to a storage facility. Munch and Fin went out there to check it out. Fin called in a few minutes before you arrived. They found where Cummings killed his victims."

Dawn nodded her head and looked over at Cabot. "I'll make sure Linda sends copies of her research notes to you when I get back. Is there anything else you need from us?"

"To be honest no," Cabot replied. "In fact, I doubt we'll need you two for the trial. We may not have anybody who can speak gypsy on the payroll, but we do have several who can speak German. They can handle translating the Beiner text and presenting it in court."

"You've got our contact information, so if you do need anything else just give us a call," Buffy said. "Unless there's an apocalypse going on, we'll be available."

"Buffy, Dawn," Cragen started. "I just want to say thanks for all your help."

"Thank you Captain," Buffy replied. "Under the circumstances I can't say it's been pleasure to meet you, but it has been good working with you."

"Same here," Dawn added. She looked down at her watch. "We really need to get going if we're going to get to the airport on time. Security on International flights takes forever to get through."

"You two take care," Cragen shook both their hands.

"Try not to take too many guys arms off when you get back to Cleveland," Stabler said, shaking their hands as well.

"Keep in touch," Benson said.

"I will," Dawn said. "Remember what I said. You ever get bored here, give me a call."

"Make sure to say bye to Munch and Fin for us," Buffy said.

"We will," Benson said.

With that the sisters left the squad room.

* * *

Buffy and Dawn were making their way through the airport. They stopped just outside the entrance to the international gates.

"We didn't get a chance to power shop this trip," Buffy said.

"The merchants on Fifth Avenue will just have to be disappointed," Dawn replied.

"Take care of yourself back in London," Buffy said. "Make sure to give Willow and Giles each a hug for me."

"I will," Dawn said. "You do the same for me with Xander. You only have to give Andrew a handshake.

"Deal," Buffy smiled. "You did good work the last couple of days."

"Thanks," Dawn smiled back. "So did you. When's your flight leave?"

"About two hours," Buffy said. "I'll grab a book and catch up on my reading."

"She does philosophy, she reads books, I barely recognize you anymore."

"I have many unexplored layers," Buffy replied. "You've done a lot of growing up on me the last few months."

"I've had a lot to deal with," Dawn said. "But I think I'm strong enough to handle it."

"I know you are," Buffy said. "Call me as soon as you get back."

"I will," Dawn said. "I'll see you at the anniversary in few weeks. We'll power shop through Cleveland."

"The city will never know what hit it," Buffy said.

The sisters hugged and Buffy waved as Dawn entered the line to get into the terminal.

* * *

A little over an hour later Buffy was sitting at the gate where her flight was due to depart reading a book. She paused and smiled.

"Munch," she said. "This is an unexpected surprise. What brings you here?"

Munch smirked. "Why am I not surprised you knew I was coming up behind you. Tell me, did you know when I entered the terminal or when I entered the airport."

"I'll leave you guessing," Buffy got up from her chair and turned to face Munch. "I thought people without tickets weren't allowed in this part of the airport."

"I flashed my badge," Munch replied. "Told them I was meeting a witness."

"Where's Fin?" Buffy asked.

"Back at the squad room filling out reports," Munch replied. "There's a couple of things I wanted to clear up with you before you left. In private."

"Like what?"

"I'll buy you a cup of coffee," Munch said. "We can talk about it."

"I got about an hour before my flight starts boarding," Buffy replied. "And I always like it when somebody else is buying."

A few minutes later Buffy and Munch were sitting at a table in the back of one of airports coffee shops.

"So what did you want to ask me?" Buffy said.

"I did all the initial checking on you and your sister," Munch started. "I got to say it wasn't easy. It's kind of convenient that virtually every record that might contain something bad in it disappeared with Sunnydale."

"What makes you think there was something there too find?" Buffy asked.

"I did have one question," Munch said. "What really happened to Warren Mears and Jonathan Levinson?"

"You're good," Buffy said. "You must have spent a lot of late nights on the phone tracking down former Sunnydale cops to get those names."

"It took me a couple of days, but I did track a couple down," Munch said. "There not that easy to find, most of them aren't working in law enforcement anymore and they seem to want to forget Sunnydale ever existed. One of them had some really weird stories."

Munch paused. "Warren Mears murdered a young woman at your home. Tara Maclay. A couple of hours later someone broke his accomplices to a robbery, Jonathan and an Andrew Wells, out of the Sunnydale police station. After that all three of them just disappeared. A statewide warrant was issued for their arrest. It said they most likely were fleeing to Mexico."

"So?"

"Two months after Sunnydale went boom," Munch continued, "Warren Mears and Jonathan Levinson's names were added to list of people killed in the disaster. A year after that, Andrew Wells turned himself into the FBI and somehow managed to cut a deal that got him only two years probation, which he served in Cleveland. Where he currently lives. My guess is he works for your foundation."

"Andrew's looking for redemption," Buffy said. "He's doing a good job of finding it. I don't know what happened to Warren or Jonathan after they left Sunnydale."

"And I don't suppose you know how Faith Wilkins managed to get a pardon from the Governor of California after pleading guilty to murder, a dozen assaults and breaking out of a maximum security prison."

"What do you think?" Buffy asked.

"I think Warren and Jonathan died a long time before Sunnydale turned into a lake," Munch said. "I think you've got some connection to the government that let's you and your friends get away with murder."

"Believe me Munch," Buffy looked him straight in the eyes. "No one got away with murder. And I don't work for the government. They just owe us a couple of favors. Besides if you really thought my sister and I were criminals or vigilantes, you would never have let us help track down Cummings."

"You're right," Munch said. "I don't think you're a criminal. There were a several times when both you and Dawn talked like you believe this magic stuff is real. You both referred to Cummings as a 'wannabe.' You showed a lot of respect to the people who went to the 'real' magic shops and treated the shopkeepers at the other places with either indifference or hostility."

"Again, so?"

"I saw you at those crime scenes Buffy," Munch said. "I watched you beat Elliot at that arm wrestling contest. I saw what you did to Cummings. You are not a normal girl. Just what exactly are you?"

Buffy spent a few seconds studying Munch and came to a decision. "Just between us?"

"You have my word, just between us?"

"Hypothetically, let's suppose this magic stuff is real," Buffy said. "That the creatures from your nightmares really are walking the streets at night and have been since before history began. What would the police be able to do about it?"

"Truthfully," Munch thought for a second. "Not very much. Although that would explain a couple of those weird stories."

"So if the bad things are out there, who is left to deal with them?"

"Is that what you are?" Munch asked. "You and sister hunt down the creatures from my nightmares. You stand between the bad things of the world and the rest of us."

"That's as good a description as any," Buffy replied. "You have a problem with that Munch?"

Munch thought back over the last few days and actually smiled. "You know, for once, that actually makes me feel good about the way the world works."


	18. Epilogue

A/N – This is set post the L&O:SVU fifth season episode "Loss" spoilers for that episode.

Epilogue

Former Assistant District Attorney Alexandra Cabot sat in a chair of her new house and stared out the window into her backyard. It had been a little over a month since she had been declared dead and Federal Marshals had put into protective custody to keep a Columbian drug lord from killing her.

The sling she had been forced to wear ever since a gunman had nearly killed her on a New York street had finally been taken off the day before. She still felt stiff. And her side hurt whenever she moved her arm.

She looked around the small nicely appointed kitchen. The Marshals had tried to do a good job for her. After all she wasn't some informant cutting a deal to get out of jail. She was one of their own. It was a nice house. She now lived in a small town a few miles outside of Phoenix. After a few days of the heat she found herself already missing a cold New York morning.

She didn't know what she was going to do now. She couldn't go back into trial work. Too much risk a case might end up in the papers. She couldn't work for local DA for similar reasons. She had no interest in corporate law.

She looked up when she heard the doorbell ring. She left the kitchen and walked to the front door. Following the advice grilled into her by the Marshals she first looked through the peephole in the door to see who was there. She had to check again. How did she get here?

Cabot opened the door to see a short blond haired woman. She looked up at Cabot and smiled.

"Ms Cabot it's nice to see you again."

"Buffy?" Cabot was still having a hard time processing. "Buffy Summers? How?"

"Did I find you," Buffy replied. "You mind if a come in. I'm a California girl and I think it's hot out here."

"Come in," Cabot opened the screen door and motioned Buffy inside. The two sat down in the living room.

"I was upset when I found out you had been killed in New York," Buffy said. "I followed the Cummings case. You did a good job nailing him. So I had a friend of mine do a little a digging."

"You were planning on going after the shooter?" Cabot asked.

"No," Buffy said. "I've got enough wars to deal with. I don't need to add any more. Dawn and I just wanted to find out what happened. Our friend figured out pretty quickly that somebody faked your death certificate. We've had a little experience with such things ourselves. After that it was just a matter of hacking the Marshals service's computer to find out where you were."

"You realize you just admitted to a half dozen felonies," Cabot said.

Buffy shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe, but I don't think you're going to report me. At least not until after you heard why I came."

"And why is that?" Cabot asked.

"I need a good lawyer," Buffy smiled. "Like I said I followed the Cummings case. Dawn also took a little time to study your record. You're a good DA. You understand that there are monsters in this world. You understand that sometimes you have to walk a very delicate line to make sure they are put away. And from everything we've learned you've never crossed that line. You've come close a couple of times. A few people might think you have. But I know you haven't. That's why we need you."

"As what, legal advisor to a vigilante group?"

"No," Buffy said. "We're not vigilantes. I need you to help make certain we don't become vigilantes. What happened in New York got me thinking. Let me tell you a little bit about my world Ms Cabot."

For next the next couple hours Alexandra Cabot listened to Buffy's tales. She learned about the demons of the world. That magic was real. She looked at the broken items on her floor from Buffy demonstrating her strength. She felt the power of a Slayer.

"I still don't see why you need me Buffy," Cabot said. "I don't have any power. I can't fight demons. I don't think you're planning on taking any of them to court."

"Like I said, what happened in New York got me thinking," Buffy said. "Over the last couple of months Willow's been deploying a computer search program to scan news reports, police records, death certificates and a lot of other databases for evidence of demonic activity. A lot of the hits we're getting are just ordinary bad guys. People playing with things they don't understand."

"So?"

"We have the knowledge and the skill to help catch these kind of people," Buffy said. "But I'm not going to turn the Slayers into a vigilante force. When we come across humans I want to make certain they're caught and prosecuted legally. I need someone who can advise us on the law. Who can help make sure we don't cross that line."

"And you think that person is me?"

"Yes."

"So how would it work?" Cabot asked. "I am technically dead."

"You'd disappear from the Marshal's records," Buffy said. "Willow's real good with computers. They'll never be able to find you. We'll set you in Cleveland. You'd be given free reign to hire the people you want. Run the department as you see fit."

"I still don't understand why you want me."

"You understand the line," Buffy said. "And I think you're strong enough to fight with us when it looks like we might cross it. I'm not going to lie to Alex. It's not going to be an easy job. It's going to be frustrating. There will times when we're dealing with humans playing with real power. When we'll have no choice but to do what needs to be done to save lives. And this is war, one that's been going on longer than the one you fought in New York."

"So why do you fight it?" Cabot said. "I spent years putting rapists and molesters in jail and there was always someone there to take their place."

"Because somebody has to fight," Buffy said. "Because every day you wake up and have a chance to make the world a better place is a day you've won the war. I forget that sometimes. But it is the truth. I've given you a lot to think about. Here's my card. When you make a decision one way or another. Give me a call."

"How do you know I won't just call the Marshals when you walk out the door?"

Buffy smiled. "You won't. Think about it. It won't be easy. But it will be worth it."

Alex sat in thought. A chance to wake up and make the world a better place.

"Buffy," she said.

"Yes."

"One more question."

"Shoot."

"When do I start?"

End

* * *

A/N – Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this story. And thanks to everyone who took the time to leave a comment or review. They were appreciated.


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